The Honor in Duty
by Subterraneangem
Summary: Sequel to Duty and Deceit: Recently defected and finally building trust and friendships, Terabyte finds herself snared in the midst of Megatron's latest schemes. With slave codes, an amnesiac Prime, and newcomers to both factions to deal with, life just got that much more complicated. Duty demands that she play the good soldier, but perhaps that isn't all it means to be an Autobot.
1. Hunter of Peace

**The Honor in Duty**

 **Chapter 1**

 **Hunter of Peace**

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 **Disclaimer: I do not own the Transformers, or the Transformers:Prime television series.**

 **Hello beloved readers and welcome back to the Series of Duties (and yes, that name is utterly absurd, so most definitely let me know if you think of anything better)! As promised, here is the first chaper of the Honor in Duty, sequel to Duty and Deceit, _about_ a month after the finale. I sincerely hope to see all my readers from Duty and Deceit return! As always, read, enjoy, fav/follow, and most importantly, review!**

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 _Kolkular: Land of the Cold._

 _Her first step into Kolkular burned like molten lava. Partially because she had no desire to be in the Decepticon citadel. Mainly, because she had stepped in a puddle of molten lava._

 _Misnomer? It really depended on one's viewpoint._

 _The artificially raised citadel was surrounded by a vast, steaming moat of magma, and the whole sector was shrouded in a heavy, black smoke that choked her vents and instantly coated her frame and workings in gritty ash. The acrid scent of eons of accumulated sulphur burned her olfactory sensors, making her nose worse than useless._

 _Not exactly what comes to mind, when one thinks of the Land of the Cold._

 _"Watch your step." Her Kolkularan escort sneered, roughly pulling her up from the lava by her finial, sending a stab of pain shooting into her helm from the delicate array. "Can't have a pretty frame like yours turned to slag on the first cycle, now can we?"_

 _She tore herself away from the leering mech, sneering back at him behind her mask. Like most bots, he towered a good helm and shoulders over her._

 _"The designer of this city was incompetent." She replied, her gold optics roaming over the collosal structure critically, making sure she sounded utterly unimpressed. "The Lord Protector rules his people from atop a giant purple mushroom ringed by fire."_

 _"On second thought, maybe you'd look better after a quick dip in the slag."_

 _No, Kolkular was not a physically cold place. In fact, it was anything but. The people, however, were an entirely different matter. Though she'd been told that she wasn't much better these days._

 _It had been a quartex since Skyquake left, but it felt like vorns. The joy and trust that she'd felt in the five vorns she'd known him seemed like a lifetime ago. She hadn't felt fresh air on her face since he left and would not until he returned. She took no free time any more, and she refused to even pause from her work long enough to refuel._

 _If she had been considered a hard worker before, she was now tireless. She worked double and triple shifts, and she basically ran her whole department single-handedly. Which was why she was now here. In Kolkular: Land of the Cold._

 _Secondary Head of the Communications and Intelligence Division of the Decepticon Army._

 _That was the grand title she'd been given when she came here. Honestly, she had expected her duties to increase, but apparently she was already basically filling the position prior to the promotion. That was, after all, the reason she had accepted the promotion. She wanted more to do. She needed more work, more missions, more responsibilities... Just more. The more she worked, the less she thought and the less she thought, the more she worked._

 _It kept her sane._

 _The femme shook her helm roughly and ordered a team of apprentice decoders to be quiet and continue in their duties. She then proceeded to follow her own orders, tearing her mind away from pointless contemplations._

 _She had work to do._

Her optics came online and opened slowly, then her processors followed and the tiny femme bolted upright, wincing as her stiff, aching frame tried to fight the action.

She had work to do.

Hadn't she set an internal alarm? It was her patrol this morning, Arcee would be furious. Skyquake! She needed to bring him and Cliff their Energon-

"Rise and shine, Flip-Sides." A voice drawled from behind her. She straightened, flaring her armor and flicking a finial.

Knockout. The Nemesis. Unicron. Orion Pax.

Everything flooded into her awareness and Terabyte suddenly felt more exhausted than she ever had before. Her helm felt like it had just fought an war within itself. And lost.

"My designation is Lieutenant Commander Terabyte and you will address me as such." She replied coolly, glancing down briefly at her frame. Wires and tubes streamed from all over her chassis, tying her to several monitoring devices, as well as a life-En filtration device. Her armor had been almost entirely replaced with the dull gray of medical patching, and her weapons were all confiscated. "Where is Orion Pax? Is he well?"

The vain medic made a face, but said nothing as familiar, yet wrong, pede-falls approached her.

Orion put a gentle hand on her shoulder, replying, "I am well, thanks to Megatronus and yourself. How are you feeling, ma'am?"

She repressed a heavy sigh. Her memories were no trick. Optimus Prime, as far as this mech in his frame was concerned, did not exist. "Please, Terabyte is fine. As to how I feel, I believe I shall live."

He couldn't see the small smile she gave behind her mask, but he smiled. He was so much the same as before, yet at the same time so different. His voice was softer, younger; inquisitive, rather than commanding. Of course, she had heard the rumors and read the files that told of how he had once been an archivist in the Great Hall of Records, but until now...

She wasn't certain exactly what she had been expecting when she thought of Orion Pax, but whatever it was, it was not this. This mech was so... normal. So completely un-Primely.

"That's good to hear... Terabyte." The red and blue mech laughed warmly, throwing her off again. Somehow noticing her odd expression, in spite of her mask, Pax quirked an optic ridge upwards, still smiling, "Is something the matter?"

Terabyte blinked, shaking her helm slightly, "No... It's just that I had never heard you laugh before..."

The little femme decided to leave off the fact that she thought it was something the Prime ought to do more often. Tearing off the wires attached to the beeping monitors and turning to Knockout before the amnesiac mech could inquire further, she forced her usual air of formality back into action, "Medic, how long has it been since our arrival?"

"Two orns." Pax supplied, concern showing clear on his expressive face. It was unnerving to see such vivid expressions on his normally stoic face. "You were very badly damaged, and poisoned with some form of-"

Knockout set down the buffer he was currently using on his already pristine armor, and flashed a fake and faintly threatening grin her way. "Orion, I do believe Lord _Megatronus_ wished to see you? Let him know that our patient will be following you shortly."

Her spark churned as she watched the ex-Prime leave, her expression showing none of the consternation that washed over her when her optics locked onto the Decepticon insignia shining on his shoulders. What had Unicron done to him?

As soon as the archivist was gone, the red medic sneered at her, "So, traitor, come running back to Mother Nemesis now have we? Did you decide the Autobots were too good for you? Or did you learn what _I_ knew all along: that they'll _never_ accept our kind."

On a whim, Terabyte lied with all the skill of Soundwave's right hand bot, her finial flicking only faintly as most of her words were selectively true, "You are a medic: you do not understand CI matters. I needed to put up a more convincing act. My cover was under suspicion; I improvised. Deceit is my specialty, Knockout. If you thought me loyal, then I should have been counted a failure."

When the mech had no response to that, the small femme inclined her helm to him and made her exit, vorns of practice hiding the ache of her frame. Two orns. The Autobots would be in turmoil, thinking that she had betrayed them and somehow convinced the Prime to do the same. They had no idea what had actually happened.

Though for that matter, did she?

As she travelled through the familiar, dim corridors of the Nemesis, Vehicons cringed away from her in fear from when Megatron had taken control of her. Others waited until they thought she wouldn't notice, then sneered at her, making insulting remarks about her loyalty.

Optimus had released the power of the Matrix into Unicron's spark, and the Matrix had somehow destroyed the Chaos-bringer's spark. The scientific explanation for it eluded her for the time being, yet she knew that there was one, though that was a debate for a later date.

The Matrix had not left the Prime's spark. The two were intertwined in such a manner that the only way to remove the Matrix would be by the Prime dying, or by him removing it of his own free will, and then dying. His spark would not be able to continue without the Matrix. Once a Prime, always a Prime.

Til all are one.

Hypothetically speaking, when the power of the Matrix was released, it would take the collective knowledge of the Primes with it. All of the Primes, including Optimus. Meaning, any memories and personality developments that occured after Orion Pax became Optimus Prime would hypothetically have departed with the rest of the knowledge of the Primes.

In all hopes, the Matrix would not be permanently depleted, simply disoriented. If that was the case, it would take it several quartex to gather itself to its former glory unaided. But Earth could not afford for the Autobots' Prime to be out of commission for several quartex. That was what she would be here for: to aid Orion Pax in rediscovering what it was to be a Prime.

How she would manage that in the center of the Nemesis, with slave programming forced into her core being, as a Decepticon defector who still had everything to learn about being an Autobot...

The two-wheeler stepped into the throne room and bowed stiffly to Megatron, holding her armor flared out, her expression and tone carefully blank. "My Lord Protector. Lieutenant Commander Terabyte, reporting for duty as requested."

She hardly flinched as she suddenly felt a sharp prick against her neck, remaining perfectly still as a purple and gold arachnoid femme crawled over her to stand in front of her. The other femme leaned in uncomfortably close, her purple lips less than an inch from Terabyte's black finial.

"The little traitor's come home." The femme cooed, her tone harsh, "And if she makes one wrong move..."

Terabyte tilted her helm up slightly as the spider-like appendages dug further into her neck, nearly drawing Energon. The spider-bot laughed, turning her back to the spy and sauntering back to her post, finishing coldly, "I'll have a new addition to my collection."

"Airachnid, a pleasure to make your acquaintance under friendlier circumstances." She replied, approaching where Megatron and Orion stood, first turning to Soundwave and bowing to her old division head.

Dread brushed over her spark and the spy had to resist the urge to cringe away when the large, ever-silent mech stepped closer to her so that he towered above her. Last time she'd seen Soundwave, he had been furious. His angry, betrayed voice still terrified her in her recharge. _Traitor_. Just one word, but from him it meant everything. Now she couldn't help but wonder how far he would go to bring her back.

For the briefest of moments, she had been inside his helm. She'd heard his thoughts as he tore hers apart. He saw her as his masterpiece; his masterpiece that the Autobots had broken. He wanted to fix her. She shuddered to think what 'fixing' her would entail.

 _/Lieutenant Commander Terabyte: returned?/_ Soundwave commed, his visor remaining blank and his posturing revealing absolutely no emotion.

"Yes sir." Terabyte said quietly, deferently keeping her gaze lowered. She held back the sourness from her tone, "Project Failsafe is go."

She assumed that Megatron would like for the Decepticons to seem like a noble, well-run little family army while Orion was present. Thus she merely bowed again to Soundwave, then positioned herself slightly behind and to the right of him, awaiting orders, her finials flitting open and closed in wariness.

"Terabyte," Megatron greeted her jovially, instantly setting the femme on edge. Somehow she doubted his fair mood was a facade, which only served to raise her concerns. "It is good to see you up and well!"

A shudder ran through her, her face still sore from her most recent encounter with the warlord. She repeated hesitantly, "... Yes sir."

"Megatronus... Megatron was just telling me of how Cybertron fared beneath the reign of the Warlord Ratchet." Orion told her solemnly, his expression troubled. Considering he had just learned that their homeworld had perished, he was right to be disturbed. "I fear that he seeks to do the same to this world also."

The navy and black femme turned her gaze downwards, clenching her jaw firmly, biting her glossa to hold back her outrage. _Warlord_ Ratchet? Ratchet?! Of all the slag Megatron could have come up with to twist the whole tide of the War... One of the Vehicons could have hashed together a more believable story.

"I am certain we will soon be able to supply further data on the matter, once Mega-" She cut herself off. Old habits were hard to break, yet even harder to return to once broken it would seem. "Once my lord has deemed you ready."

"There is much that remains to be shared." Megatron agreed, levelling her with a warning glare, "For the time being however, I'm sure Orion would be glad to help our cause in any way he can?" When the blue and red mech nodded, he went on, "Terabyte, why don't you join Soundwave and myself to discuss what you have missed during your recuperation time."

While worded as a suggestion, Terabyte felt a light tugging sensation in the core of her being, confirming that her compliance was not optional. Nodding in acknowledgement, the two-wheeler locked optics with Orion Pax before bowing to him and following her department head into the briefing room behind the Lord Protector's throne.

A knot of fear worked its way into her tanks and the femme straightened in a discomfitted manner as the door slid shut and locked behind her.

 **Two Hours Later**

Terabyte left the briefing room swiftly, her finials contracted and held painfully stiff in place so as not to show emotion. Behind her navy battle mask, the femme's face-plates were perfectly blank, her ruby optics minutely widened.

Leaving the throne room quickly behind her, the mini-bot two-wheeler headed to Orion's secluded work station at such speeds that one would have thought she was being pursued. She looked as though she'd just seen a ghost.

The spy side-stepped down a vacant back corridor to avoid a band of Vehicons on her way to the work station.

Just as she went to ring the door bell to inform Pax of her arrival, the doors slid open and he stuck his helm through, almost walking straight into her.

"Optimus!" Terabyte exclaimed in surprise, grimacing as Soundwave immediately sent a warning ping through her HUD, startling her further. She had gotten used to not being under 24/7 surveillance. "Orion Pax, do you need something?"

The blue and scarlet mech frowned minutely, but didn't mention her slip-up. He smiled at her, his clear blue optics showing a touch of concern. "Terabyte, please, come in." As the door closed behind her, he frowned again, "You appear frightened... Is all well? Are we under attack?"

"No, no, nothing of that sort." She assured him quickly, wondering how the mech could read her with such ease. She had thought that part of the mech to be related to the Matrix, but his optics, while lacking the depth of wisdom that comes of leadership, age, and loss, still held their uncanny, piercing gaze that felt as though he could see straight to her spark. "Merely a new operation that I have been included in and debriefed on. Its entailments to my person are mildly... disconcerting."

"Disconcerting?" Orion queried, cocking a skeptically bemused optic ridge, "If I may, you seem rather beyond mildly disconcerted, Terabyte."

She smiled briefly behind her mask, choosing instead to evade the question, approaching the provided terminals and examining the archivist's current progress in decoding the Iaconian top secret files that she herself had stolen vorns ago, when Darkshine died. They had been unable to decode them, due to the coding being founded on internal, Autobot known only information.

"You have made good progress on these files." The spy praised lightly, impressed by the mech's progress and tidy work habits within the system. She began scanning through the files to further decipher where he had left off, "What are your thoughts regarding it?"

"The files are complicated, littered with redundant systems, loop-holes, and feint-files." He paused, tapping out a few lines of code, then stopped and vented heavily. "I am bothered by our most recent encounter with the Autobots."

"Do not concern yourself, Orion." Megatron rumbled from the doorway, startling both bots from their conversation and work, "The Autobots are masters of deceit. They appeared genuinely concerned for you, and this bothers you, yes?"

Pax nodded, his optic ridges drawing together in thought, "Yes... And this name that they called me: Optimus. Terabyte also exclaimed it when I startled her... Why? What does it mean?"

It took every bit of her vorns of training to keep her armor flared out and her expression unreadable as Megatron levelled her with a murderous glare that made her spark cringe within her.

"That is an excellent question." The silver warlord replied, his tone not at all discouraging Pax's inquistive manner, losing some of the anger and hate that constantly hovered in his tone, "They called you Optimus when they kidnapped you. It means 'First'. They intended to wipe your mind and personality to make you one of them. You were to be their trial run."

The ex-Prime mulled the thought over for a moment before nodding his understanding, "And Terabyte calls me this also?"

"Yes, Terabyte," Megatron hummed, a hint of threat deeply laced under his tone. The threat would have gone completely unheard by Orion. "Pray tell."

She stiffened minutely, but went on to answer the question following the scheme of lies Megatron had ordered her to hold to when interrogated, her coding leaving her no room to do otherwise, "As a highly experienced member of the Decepticon Communications and Intelligence division, shortly after your capture, Lord Megatron sent me to infiltrate Autobot forces to gather sensitive intel from within and ensure your safety simultaneously. The vorns of maintaining my Autobot cover did not come without a toll."

When Orion accepted her explanation without further questions, Megatron wrapped an arm around his shoulder and began escorting him from the room, "Such is the price of peace. But come now, brother, we have much to discuss!"

Terabyte watched the Decepticon warlord and the Autobot leader exit the lab arm in arm, eagerly discussing whether high-grade was better than sweet-En, and who won the last Galactic Tournament.

It was confusing.

The Prime and the Lord Protector were not supposed to be gallivanting about the Nemesis arm in arm like old school buddies with matching Decepticon insignias engraved on their chassis. Terabyte watched the doors slide shut, then stared at them for a moment before turning to delve more earnestly into Orion's work.

 _"You are far more worthy of this than I have been for... probably far too long."_

 _"Duty called for it, Terabyte."_

 _"If you so much as_ _ **think**_ _the name Optimus Prime in his presence, I will not hesitate to have you reformatted."_

 _"She's not one of them anymore."_

 _"Just... trust me."_

 _"Terabyte_... Terabyte? ... Lieutenant?"

"TERABYTE!"

Her optics snapped open at the bellow and she jolted upright, her battle protocols startling into action before the rest of her processors. Whirling with weapons drawn, the small femme leapt towards the threat with what would have been a fluidly graceful motion.

If it weren't for the fact that she had been seated at a work station.

Thus, instead of finding her dagger point at someone's throat, the femme's pedes got tangled up in the chair, which in turn began spinning. Thrown off balance by the swiveling chair, Terabyte slashed off the corner of the terminal before her spinning perch overbalanced and brought her down to crash in a heap of flared armor and creaking chair.

Laughter filled her audials and the spy's vents heaved as she extricated herself from the collapsed chair, flaring her armor out and straightening stiffly in the hopes of regaining even the slightest bit of dignity. She picked up her seat and set it back in its usual position, idly reaching up to ensure that her mask was in place.

Her systems heating minutely at the continued chuckles of those who had disrupted her sleep, she took in a deep vent and faced the intruders. Ruby optics widened in surprise and horror when she identified the mechs currently taking amusement from her unfortunate levels of grace in waking.

"My lords." She mumbled, bowing deeply in spite of it all. Orion and Megatron nodded solemnly, glanced at each other and grinned, plainly attempting to restrain themselves for her pride's sake. Her displeasure carefully masked, she went on, "My apologies, Lord Megatron, Orion Pax, I... did not intend to fall into recharge in this manner."

To her confusion, Megatron simply smiled at her in a way that oddly wasn't intimidating, waving off her words with a deep chuckle, "Do not worry yourself, Terabyte. You have added entertainment to my morning."

Not entirely convinced that that was a good thing, the dark femme remained silent, inclining her helm faintly in response. She supposed entertaining the warlord was a preferable alternative to displeasing him. Displeasing a bot who could literally control one's every action was anything but wise.

Orion smiled at her knowingly, then turned to their terminal, cocking his helm at the progress she had succeeded in making before drifting into recharge in the wee groons of the morning. "I see you added several new algorithms, as well as... categorizing my progress?"

She locked optics with Megatron for a moment, repressing a shudder as the slave code reaffirmed itself, the warlord's private instructions to her playing back in her helm. Turning away from her master, she nodded, "As I began work on the files, I saw that they were encrypted in four separate divisions, most likely, it would appear, by four different highly-skilled individuals. Thus it seemed most efficient to divide them accordingly, and decode each individually."

"Ah, yes I see that now." Pax conceded, opening one of the files and tapping out a few lines, humming, then deleting them. "You are using a rather complicated series of algorithms, based on a network of Autobot installations... It would seem that that is the most effective method at the moment. However if we were to substitute our glyphs from Cy-Stan to *Ahtzobahts, we may find better success."

Terabyte cocked her helm at the mech, glanced back at her leader in question, then nodded in agreement, enabling access to the Nemesis' translation matrices. "That's an excellent idea, sir..." She allowed herself a wry smile behind her mask, "Perhaps I would have thought of that were I conscious for more of my shift."

Suddenly Megatron's engine let out a deep, angry rumble, making her involuntarily shift to a more obsequious stance, forcing her own engine to silence as it fought to growl at her position.

She had prided herself on her total self-control; mentally, physically, and emotionally. That Soundwave and Megatron had so easily taken that from her angered her to no end.

"A situation has arisen that requires my immediate attention. Terabyte, assist Orion. I do not believe I will be able to return until tomorrow, I trust you will to see to his needs in my absence." Megatron ordered, turning to Orion Pax, "If you find anything unsatisfactory, contact me at once and it will be remedied. Good cycle, Orion."

Going completely stiff, she felt herself offer the warlord a small bow, the new set of commands clicking into place in her mind. She straightened with a minutely rebellious flare in her armor as soon as the warlord had made his exit.

"It's getting worse every joor..." The tiny two-wheeler muttered too quietly for Pax to hear.

The code was growing and evolving in her mind, expanding its control every klick she spent in Megatron's presence. She couldn't find a way to stop it, and it terrified her. It terrified her even more than when Megatron himself had taken control of her. Because then she had known what his end goal was, and she could fight him.

This, this was different. This was foreign, yet at the same time, it was her own programming. It was implanted in the very core of her being, and was gradually taking over, yet her attacks on it were wholly unsuccessful because every time she made headway against the slave programming her self-repairs would fix the code and reinforce it. Her systems couldn't tell that it didn't belong. And she had no idea how far the programming would go.

For all she knew, she would wake up one morning and find that she was completely unable to act without Megatron's permission.

Who would save Optimus then?

"Is something wrong?" Orion Pax's voice cut through her thoughts, concern gleaming in his clear blue optics.

His hand touched her shoulder gently and the femme instantly cringed away from the Prime, feeling, for just a moment, the overwhelming aura of the Matrix wash over her. Her very spark cringed away, as if it feared itself unworthy of the presence of the Matrix.

"Terabyte?" Orion said softly, the burst of power fading as he went on wistfully, "Why are you frightened of me? Have I harmed you? I fear I recall nothing of the last several decavorns..."

"I-" She abruptly silenced herself, minutely surprised that she had been allowed to speak at all. "I don't _fear_ you, per say... Not any more, not after all that you've helped me through. I- it's difficult to explain..." She trailed off, her optics flitting up to the tiny, unnoticeable surveillance camera in the corner of the room, "A good friend once explained it to me as this: it's not fear, it's more like... respect. Like the kind of respect that you have for someone close to your spark. You don't fear the person, but you fear disappointing them."

"I..." He returned to his work on the encryptions for a moment, then sighed heavily, "I am honored that I have earned your respect in this manner... I only wish I could remember how, or why."

The femme's vents pulled in a sharp draft, and her armor shifted, burning as it scraped over her numerous raw, unhealed welds. "I may be able to... assist in that. For the time being however, we ought to continue our work. Perhaps when we stop to refuel at 1200 hours."

 **1200**

She sighed, taking her precious time pouring the cube of Energon for Optimus and setting it on the counter as she went to pour a second cube for herself. The Vehicons at the other dispensers were whispering amongst themselves, and while she couldn't make out their words, Terabyte knew they were talking about her. It was little wonder that her presence should cause upset, considering what had happened the last two times she had been on board.

The first time, Megatron had been controlling her from within, and had slaughtered every Vehicon he came across. Then, when Soundwave had captured her and installed the dormant slave code, Skyquake and Cliffjumper had mounted a rescue op and took out all the enemies they encountered, though the majority had not been beyond medical assistance.

And now she was back as though she had never defected.

They had all of course been informed of the nature of her original mission. Megatron had made certain of that when they had abducted her. Yet he hadn't mentioned that the mission had gone horribly wrong – in Decepticon optics – and she had actually honestly defected. She sighed again, old memories of before her defection flooding her mind every moment she was on the Nemesis.

The mess hall was a lot quieter without Makeshift.

As far as mentors went, Makeshift hadn't been the kindest, or the most patient, and in the end she learned that he hadn't cared at all and had lied to her all through her apprenticeship and funneled all of her secrets to Megatron. But that didn't make the shattered bond hurt any less, and it didn't make his death any more manageable. He may have been a lying jerk of a mentor, but he was still her mentor.

The large Vehicon jet beside her laughed, then shoved hard into the little femme a good head and shoulders shorter than him, crushing her into the Energon dispenser and knocking hers and the Prime's fuel to the floor with a resounding crash. At the light growl of her engine, he leaned down and hissed scathingly, "Traitor."

Louder, the Vehicon almost shouted, "Watch it, Flip-Sides! We're stretching fuel as it is, keeping bots like _you_ onboard."

Terabyte opened her mouth to snarl a sharp retort, but felt her vocalizers lock up. In her helm, Megatron's words rang clear and undeniable thanks to Soundwave's tampering with her mind: _I trust you won't be causing trouble, am I right?_

Instead she simply bent down to begin cleaning up the mess the Vehicon had made of their Energon, ignoring the mech completely. As she swept the glass up and stuck it in her subspace to dispose of later, she saw the jet back up nervously against the wall in the corner of her optics.

A commanding voice filled the silent, spectating room with an air of authority that made everyone present pull their armor in a little closer to their frames, shifting to a respectful posture. "What is your name, Vehicon?"

"Backbiter." The large jet that had bothered her spat defiantly, though his armor remained tilted in a distinctly frightened manner.

"You should be ashamed of yourself, Backbiter." Orion said firmly, his tone such that the accused shrank a little further. "This femme has served in one of the most difficult fields of work for the Decepticons, and she deserves your respect, not your derision. Apologize to the femme and clean up the mess you made."

For a brief second, Terabyte could almost believe that the Vehicon would really do as he was asked. Then his red visor hardened and he laughed contemptuously, his voice rising in volume until at last the whole mess hall was filled with boisterous laughter.

Orion stood there forlornly, a puzzled and dismayed look on his face. He glanced over at her as she rose from cleaning the spill, touching his elbow to lead him out of the roaring crowd. Their jeering cries rang in her audials as they left quickly, Terabyte's armor flaring in and out in an attempt to contain her anger.

"Come. I have an Energon dispenser in my private quarters." She said tersely.

"Why…" Pax started softly, his confusion bearing a hint of righteous indignation, "Why did they laugh? I meant it not in jest."

The navy and black femme tossed her gaze over her frame, now dripping Energon from between the cracks in spite of her quick wipe down. She made a face behind her mask, "You have been gone for many vorns, Orion Pax. The Decepticons are not what they once were."

"Why do we call ourselves that? It seems… contradictory to our beliefs."

She cocked her helm at the sudden question, but replied calmly, "It originated as a derogatory term devised from one of Megatron's speeches – you should recall this one – in which he proclaimed, 'You are being deceived.' The Decepticons took the name and now wear it as a badge of honor." They stepped into Terabyte's quarters, where she had already set up an audio replay loop to grant them a level of privacy. Her mask would prevent Soundwave visually interpreting her words. "Unfortunately, the meaning has become more accurate than the symbolism."

She poured a cube of Energon and passed it to the red and blue mech sitting on the corner of her berth, then poured another for herself and sat down on the opposite corner.

"Why does Megatron not do something to prevent this degradation of standards?"

"As I said previously, Orion. It has been a long time since what you remember. Many things have been forgotten in the decavorns of war, and it seems as though morals were among the first to be forgotten in Decepticon ranks." She gazed deeply into her cube of Energon, swishing it around idly.

Orion sipped his fuel, "We cannot lose hope in our cause, Terabyte, particularly not now. Perhaps together with Megatron we can return to the nobility of our origins."

Terabyte hummed softly, but didn't voice a reply. Return to the nobility of origins that she hadn't even been sparked to know about. She was a war-born. She didn't understand, fully, what the Senate had been like, or what Megatron had been like when he started the Decepticons. She couldn't know that, but maybe Orion was right. Maybe if everyone stopped fighting, there could be peace.

She downed the last of her Energon and stood abruptly, relieving Orion of his empty cube and disposing of it.

Whether they be among the Autobots or the enemy, the War would never end so long as Orion stood where Optimus was needed. Kind-sparked secretaries with no taste of true war were what Cybertron had always needed more of. But here and now, what their race truly needed was a Prime.

But not even just _a_ Prime. They needed _Optimus._


	2. Just Fine

**The Honor in Duty**

 **Chapter 2**

 **Just Fine**

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 **Hello everybody again! Call this what you will guys... This is either five days late or two days early depending on how you want to look at it, so I'm gonna declare it two days early, cause that makes me feel awesomer.**

 **Also, I just want to take a moment to do some happy dances and pass out sugar cookies to everybody who read this. *passes out cookies* Because I kept all my readers! Yay! Hopefully with this story, I'll continue to see my favorite readers (which is all of you, by the way), and maybe even attract new readers to this series! By the way, if you're a new reader, please go back and read the prologue to this series, _Ages Come and Ages Go_ , and most importantly, the prequel to this story, _Duty and Deceit_. Because otherwise, this will seem like a really random start to a story, and nothing will make any sense... So yes, definitely if you are new to my writings, please read _Duty and Deceit_ before continuing in this one! Thank you!**

 **Quick note and reminder: First of all, this chapter has more POV shifts than usual, but I think I managed to make it all flow together into a semblance of sense. And for my reminder, I've made quite an effort to make this clear, but it can be easy to forget: While Terabyte is on the Nemesis with the intent of bringing Orion Pax back to Primeyness, she still has Soundwave's implanted slave coding in her helm that means she is - for now - physically incapable of going against any direct order from Megatron. While she can sometimes stretch the interpretations of his orders, she is still very much not in total control of herself, so don't be surprised if she acts more Decepticonly than her 'cover' would normally require. I will continue to strive towards making it clear when she is and is not acting of her own free will though.**

 **Review Responses:** _ **To AllSpark Princess:**_ _ **Hello, and welcome to the Honor in Duty! Thank you so much for reviewing, it makes my day every time! And yes, never fear, Terabyte always has a plan and a reason, except when she doesn't... Ha. Anyway, kudos for trusting in Terabyte - she and Skyquake both thank you too - and I have no plans on stopping this story any time soon - as you can see on my profile - so enjoy!**_

 _ **To GoldenEagle13:**_ _ **Thank you so much for your generous review! I really do try to keep my writing style consistent in each story and somewhat tuned to each character's point of view, which can be really hard... So it makes me really happy to hear that I've been successful! Now, I won't give away spoilers, but I can assure you, this story in the series of Terabyte's life will most definitely be exciting, and hopefully I'll have some nice little surprises to spice things up too... *rubs hands together in anticipatory glee, giggling maniacally*.**_

 _ **To**_ _ **redlinevcr: As always, thank you for reviewing! Your input really does keep me going. Glad you enjoyed the last chapter, and here's another feels'n'angst packed chapter for you to read and enjoy! All aboard the feels train!**_

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 _She lifted her helm groggily, groaning as the action sent a spike of pain through the side of her face. Her finial tingled numbly as the sensory nerves realigned themselves and came the rest of the way online. The tired femme ran a hand over her mask and cycled a deep vent through her systems, forcing herself to sit up._

 _Datapads littered her terminal, which flickered in the dim light of her workstation. A few empty Energon cubes were stacked on top of each other in a lopsided pile, and she had several notifications flashing on her terminal informing her that she needed to meet Soundwave in his office in…_

 _The femme snarled and bolted out of her chair, slamming it back against the terminal with more force than was necessary. An empty cube fell off the desk and shattered on the ground, but she didn't have time to clean it up just then. Growling in an inarticulate expression of her aggravation, she stormed out of her office and crashed right into the mech standing just outside her door._

" _Dreadwing, I don't care what Skyquake made you promise, I don't want to see so much as a nanite-" She cut herself off and looked down at the just-barely-salvaged cube of Energon in the Vehicon's hands. Sighing heavily, she inclined her helm apologetically, "Good cycle Voltage, I'm sorry. Thank you as always for the fuel, but I need to get to Commander Soundwave's office. Go ahead and set it down with the rest in my office, I will get it when I return."_

 _As she continued on her way to her commander's office, the femme couldn't help but smile appreciatively at the Vehicon's faithfulness to bring her rations. Though, she was somewhat puzzled as to how the mech was now in Kolkular, when she'd left him and the rest of his Comms and Intel unit at Kaon. Shrugging it off for the time being, her frame straightened, flared, and stiffened habitually as she entered the CI head's office._

" _You summoned, Commander?"_

 _The lean purple gladiator waved a hand and she sat down as requested. He tilted his helm at her in his ever silent way. Today however, she feigned lack of understanding and gave no response or acknowledgement of the query. She was fine. She hadn't actually been to her quarters since she was stationed here, so she didn't even know if she had any, but that was fine._

 _She hadn't actually been to the mess hall since her tour of the citadel, but that was fine too. After all, Voltage brought her fuel regularly enough to keep her tanks at a satisfactory forty percent. Her processors ached constantly from not recharging well enough to get a good defrag, and she'd dropped in work efficiency by twenty percent, but she was still performing her duties to 110%._

 _Everything was just fine._

" _Negative." Soundwave replied via voice records to the statement she wasn't aware she had voiced._

" _With all due respect sir, I am fine. I have not failed in my duties, and last I checked I was performing all of said duties well above and beyond their extent. If you have summoned me in regards to my current work habits, I dare say that's none of your business. Sir." She snarled back obstinately, her tone bordering on disrespectful, a sharp contrast from her usual that even she couldn't deny._

 _The Prussian blue two-wheeler turned her gaze to her lap, watching her biolights flicker wearily. She could feel Soundwave watching her with that ever stoic, blank visor of his._

 _Several klicks passed in silence, and she wondered that she hadn't been reprimanded in the slightest for her disrespect. Finally she spoke again, once she could trust herself to show the proper stability and cool, calculating demeanor she was known for._

" _My apologies, Commander Soundwave, sir. You are correct. With your permission, I would like to take a rotation's leave of duty, sir."_

 _He responded in a recording of Knockout, unreadable as ever, "Take five."_

She was slightly early. Maybe she could stop by the lab and take a light morning refuel with Orion first. But if she were to do that, she would be slightly late, which was not her intent. Of course, she'd owed the Decepticons nothing, she wasn't one of them anymore and this wasn't like the good old days.

It was something she found she needed to remind herself of far more frequently than she would have liked. That this was not who she was anymore. That all of this peace, this familiarity, this contentedness she felt as she allowed herself to slip back into her old routine, this was not what the Decepticons were really like. This was a ship-wide façade of decentness for the sake of Orion Pax; the reassuring calm and friendliness was all set up under a death threat from Megatron himself.

All of these facts were a lot easier for the two-wheeler to keep in mind just now, given why she was standing outside of Knockout's med-bay with a trembling frame disguised by stiffly flared armor.

"Spiders!" The door in front of her swished open and Knockout stepped through in an angered rush, almost crashing into her in the process. His disgusted scowl quickly morphed to an anticipatory grin that would have unnerved any mech in their right mind. "Ah, Lieutenant Commander Terabyte. How good to see you. Here for your appointment, I presume?"

Nodding an affirmative, the darkly colored femme followed the medic into his domain, her scarlet biolights casting their eerie glow in the dim. A large red-faced, one-opticked, cobalt mech emerged from the back of the medical bay, several tools in hand. She inclined her helm to the medic's assistant and likely only friend.

"Breakdown." Terabyte said in acknowledgement, noting the metal patch over where MECH had taken his right optic several months ago. "It is good to see you… mostly intact after your run-in with the humans."

He simply growled at her in return, his lip peeling up in a sneer as he handed Knockout the tools that were no doubt to be for the coming procedures. Nothing too horribly menacing there, just a few magnetic styluses of varying size and strength, a welder, and some life-En extraction units. That gave her little peace of mind however, knowing that the red medic was well-equipped with far more dangerous tools on his person.

"Now that we've had our exchange of… pleasantries," Knockout drawled, "Shall we get started?"

Now it was Terabyte's turn to sneer, though her mask hid it from view. "I do not really have a choice in the matter, now do I?"

The medic laughed, leading her to a medical berth and getting her situated, "No, not particularly. I assume Lord Megatron filled you in on the _details_ of this little procedure?"

Muffling the growl of her engine, the femme nodded again, giving a summary for confirmation, "He wishes to develop a way to artificially replicate my deceased mentor's shape-shifting abilities, and I am the best and only candidate for such experimentation due to the fact that I am the only remaining source of Makeshift's CNA as a result of previous failed experiments to the same end."

"Quite." He agreed, still grinning in that maliciously eager way. He picked up the vials of sedatives and anesthetics and regarded them thoughtfully for a moment, "Breakdown, I don't think we'll be needing these today."

Terabyte vented quietly, laying down on the berth at the Decepticon medic's request, biting back a hiss as too late she felt the restraints locking her into place. Her processors ached at the very thought of resistance and she knew she could do nothing to fight. For Orion's sake, she could not resist, and even with that aside, the slave code would not allow it.

Her spark pulse sped up as the medic pulled out his electric hand-saw and fired it up with the familiar whine of a medical tool whose efficiency she knew all too well.

"Don't worry, Terabyte," He crooned, his smirk remaining firmly in place, "This won't hurt… much."

 **Omega Outpost One. Two Rotations Ago.**

At last exhausted of thinking up all the things that could have gone wrong in their mission to Unicron, he had determined to trust that Terabyte could take care of herself. Whatever had happened, no one had yet come to see them, so in spite of his determination to not worry, Skyquake was quite understandably unconscionably worried.

Across the cell from him, Cliffjumper wasn't doing much better – Arcee had gone on that mission too after all. For the moment, the red mech was laying on his front on the floor, idly kicking his feet through the air, pretending to be deeply engrossed in the datapad in front of him. Skyquake saw no reason to point out to the mech that he realized the datapad wasn't even activated.

They heard the ground bridge open for a second time about an hour ago, signifying the team's return from the mission. No one had let them know how the mission had gone.

Skyquake stopped what he was doing for a moment where he was standing on his hands, balancing against the wall as he listened intently to the complete silence outside their cell.

Pushing himself up one last time and getting to his pedes, Skyquake turned up his audials, wishing he had Terabyte's extensive audial range granted by her finials. In any case, the sound he'd heard was in fact pedefalls. They probably belonged to a light-weight bot, but every step had a heaviness to it that made Skyquake's spark sink.

His armor shifted slightly and his shoulders fell. Sweeping gray optic ridges drew together in an anxious frown before he forced them down to a full scowl. As the pedefalls approached, the green jet realized that there were others following the first set, probably four or five. That was somewhat positive. Maybe the light-weight ones were Terabyte.

He silenced the hope, knowing her steps well enough to know that she was not with them. Cliffjumper at least would be getting some good news.

"We're about to have visitors." The jet said aloud, not really necessarily speaking to anyone in particular.

"Maybe they'll have fuel." Cliffjumper teased half-sparkedly, even he unable to maintain a light mood.

Arcee stepped around the corner and opened the cell, her armor slack and her movements as though she were carrying the world on her shoulders. She walked straight over to where the red warrior had sat up on the floor and set herself down beside him, not even making a noise when the mech wrapped an arm around her.

Dried coolant streaked the femme's face, sending another strong jolt of fear through the mech's spark. If whatever had happened was bad enough to make _Arcee_ cry…

Bulkhead and Bumblebee came in next, each sitting down on one of the empty berths in the cell. Ratchet and Jetfire followed them in with Jack, Raf, and Miko. The scientist and medic sat down as well, Ratchet wrapping an arm around Bumblebee who looked uncomfortably close to tears.

"We've not lost him yet, Bee." The old medic reassured him quietly as the children sat down on the floor beside where Skyquake now stood, very confused and very, very troubled.

When none of them seemed too eager to explain what happened, the green jet's engine gave a low rumble, not quite covering the whine of fear. When the whole Autobot army is on the verge of tears after as many decavorns of war as they'd all been through… He had good reason to be apprehensive. "What happened? Where is Terabyte?"

" **She and O-Optimus…"** Bumblebee started before letting out a keen and burying his helm in Ratchet's shoulder, reminding Skyquake that the yellow scout was only a decavorn or two older than Terabyte.

Jetfire cleared his throat and began to calmly recount the mission as he'd received it second-hand. "Terabyte, Optimus, and Megatron went into Unicron's spark chamber, leaving the rest of the team on guard. The mission was a success: the power of the Matrix destroyed the Chaos Bringer's dark spark. However, after the fact Optimus Prime seems to have lost his memories, and he, Terabyte, and Megatron took a ground bridge to the Nemesis."

Skyquake glared at the white scientist, not believing his story for an astrosecond. He growled, "Terabyte would not have betrayed us."

"It wouldn't be the first time." Bulkhead countered, his tone harsh and accusatory. The green ex-Con snarled, his servos twitching as he contemplated drawing his machine gun.

"She would not have betrayed us." He repeated emphatically, his armor flaring in anger. The Pit-fighter's posture changed and he allowed himself to stand to his full size, anger glowing dangerously in his ruby optics.

"No one's saying she did." Cliffjumper said firmly, glaring Bulkhead and eyeing Skyquake carefully. "We don't know why she went with Megatron, and until we do, we are going to assume that she did not go of her own free will. Even if she did, I'm sure she has a very good reason for doing so."

The red mech met his optics and jerked his chin towards Skyquake's hand where his machine gun had come out of subspace, Cliffjumper's tone was final, "Put down the weapon and sit down, Skyquake."

Skyquake stood down subspaced the gun and sat down hard on the floor, wresting a yelp from a startled Miko. Cliffjumper watched him with understanding sky blue optics. "We'll get her back, Sky… We'll get them both back."

Miko crawled over him and perched on his shoulder, rubbing it consolingly. Soon after, Raf scrambled up and somehow nestled himself on Skyquake's chest, right on top of his pulsing spark and looked up at him with wide, worried brown eyes. He put one large hand gently over the spiky-haired youngling that Terabyte had taken such a liking to.

To his surprise, even Jack came up and sat in his lap, saying quietly, "They'll be alright. Both of them. Optimus and Terabyte will make sure of it."

 **Present. Omega Outpost One.**

Optimus was gone. He was on the Nemesis with Megatron and the Decepticons and Terabyte, who may or may not have betrayed them all. Arcee was almost never at base anymore, always driving solo missions and patrols. When she was home, she usually refueled then got into a fight with someone and went on another patrol.

They had let Skyquake and Cliffjumper out of the brig and put their punishments on hold pretty much until they figured out what to do about Prime and Terabyte. The Decepticons had been pretty quiet since the Unicron thing, but Bumblebee had a feeling it wouldn't last. Even so, they were all glad for the two warrior-class mechs, because they still had a lot to deal with in the aftermath of the Earth being nearly torn apart.

Human environmentalists were putting the chaos to 'the wrath of Mother Nature' and pushing harder than ever for their reforms, but the government claimed it was a hush-hush mining experiment gone haywire. For the most part the cover stories were holding strong.

Ratchet had holed himself up in his facilities and hadn't come out much. Whenever he needed something, Jetfire would come out to get it, give everyone a brief update, then return to assist the medic. In short, morale was lower than the yellow scout had ever seen it. Not that that was surprising, what with their leader gone.

Bumblebee blasted at the target again, letting out a whirl of frustrated beeping as he missed by about a foot. Throwing the training rifle across the room, the yellow scout stormed back to his quarters. He curled up on his berth and soon after fell into an emotionally exhausted recharge.

 _/Cliffjumper, report to the med-bay./_

The red mech growled, dropping the crate he was transporting with a huff, _/Ratchet, now is_ _ **not**_ _an awesome time for a checkup. I'll check in later, maybe when you and Arcee decide we're actually gonna_ _ **do**_ _something about the fact that our_ _ **friends**_ _are in_ _ **Decepticon hands**_ _!/_

Static buzzed in his helm for a few klicks before Ratchet replied tersely, _/Just get your aft in here before I decide to bring it in myself./_

Cliffjumper took in a deep vent and grinned at Agent Fowler's glowering expression, tuning out the man's angry rant about fragile equipment and useless alien robots. The friendly grin had more of a 'I'm gonna rip your squishy head off if you call me a robot one more time' feel to it, but the red warrior didn't care to alter it.

"Sorry, Fowl. Hate to ditch on you, but what can I say? Doc's orders."

Not bothering to stick around to hear the newest spiel of distaste from the oh-so-cheery agent, he transformed and shot off into the ground bridge provided with a loud roar of his engines, his tires kicking up a massive dust cloud behind him.

He flipped up into bot mode and sauntered into the med-bay as ordered, playing up his mood even more than normal. "He-lloo, doc-bot! You rang?"

He flung himself onto a medical berth and reclined on it with his back propped on the wall, kicking out his pedes in a relaxed manner, sighing in exaggerated relief. "So, what've I got? A check-up? A processor scan? Annual spark check and personality slash sanity test? If that's the case, you already know that I'll put down somethin' like my favorite color's forty-two and – oh by the way, did I tell you I like bananas? – and then the sanity test will tell you I'm _completely_ off my rocker. At which point you'll try to take my helm off with a wrench for not taking you seriously enough."

Ratchet just looked at him, in such a way that Cliffjumper almost felt bad about it. His guilt was overridden by the instinct to survive. This was how he coped, so in a way, he was respecting his medic by doing all in his power to remain sane.

"Cliffjumper…" The red and white medic sighed, sounding like he'd been to the Well and back in the last two days. "I have something to ask you."

He raised an optic ridge, straightening up on the berth just slightly, "Yeah? Shoot."

"Well, Jetfire and I have been working with Blitzwing's corpse, as you know…" Ratchet trailed off for a klick, before taking a deep vent and continuing. "Before we bury him, I… well, Jetfire and I believe we can salvage enough parts from him to replace your pede… Properly."

Cliffjumper's outward expression didn't change, but his frame stiffened notably, his spark stopping in its chamber before giving an excited flutter which he quickly stilled. To not have spikes of pain up his side with every step he took, to feel his pede again, to walk normally, without an oblong, unshapely wreck of this excuse for a limb. He should have said yes in a sparkbeat.

But he didn't.

Instead, he cast a sidelong glance at the limb, which he'd painted as much as he could to match the rest of him, though it was still primarily that shiny silver of free-standing gears and pistons, axle and tire. He flexed the strange foot that extended the same distance backwards and forwards with triangular layers.

The memory of Terabyte sneering down at him – her mask had been up, but he could see her sneer in her blood colored optics – right before she blew his pede to slag for the second time in as many weeks. Then Blitzwing's fading optics with the feel of his spark spluttering out in his hand.

Cliffjumper clenched his jaw briefly before grinning bitterly at the medic before grunting discontentedly and with some difficulty, letting his face-plates shift to a natural expression, which in this case was a cold, flat expression with clenched jaw and a faint scowl.

"No." His lips twitched up in a flash of a half-sparked smirk that quickly fled his face, his optics dark with guilt and pleading. He shifted the pede under both his and Ratchet's scrutiny, "This? I _deserve_ this. And even if I didn't deserve this, _he_ doesn't deserve to be melted down to scrap to become a pede for his killer. I won't do that to the mech. That's just… that's just wrong, Ratch."

Ratchet cocked his helm at him, raising an optic ridge and smirking like Cliffjumper had just passed some sort of a test. A part of the red mech's mind hummed smugly: the doc did have him in for a personality test. "You've changed a lot over the vorns, Cliffjumper, especially since Arcee and Terabyte, and even Skyquake. I'm proud of you, mech."

"Yeah. Most pride-worthy slag-heap you've met, I'm sure." He snorted, shrugging off the praise with a scornful wince before grinning again, leaping off the berth and dusting off his hands, his tone bright again, "So, that all you wanted me for, doc-bot? Cause I really need to make sure Jetbrain's not blown Fowler to Cybertron in my absence."

He paused before leaving the med-bay, "Oh and Ratch? I'm sure Prime and TB wouldn't mind a rescue op sometime in the next vorn. Y'know, before ole bucket-head accidentally tortures them to death?"

 **A Week Later**

She raised her blaster and ran around the corner of the cement building, waving Bulkhead on. As the large olive Wrecker rounded the next building, she heard the clang of his wrecking ball on somebot's helm and darted after him with Bumblebee.

Firing after Knockout and Breakdown who were making off with the military satellite station's power-core, Arcee shouted, "Drop the power source!"

The red Decepticon turned around to sneer at her, his accented tone ever-so-polite, "Aren't you missing someone?"

The two-wheeler let out a rage-strangled snarl, forgetting her blasters completely and lunging at him with her forearm blades drawn. How dare he?! Casually bringing up their loss of Optimus as though they were old friends discussing a missing datapad.

"Ready for that bridge!" Breakdown hollered, right as the 'medic' swatted her aside with his electric spear.

Arcee moaned as she crawled to her pedes, her helm ringing from the electricity that had just been jolted through her. The Decepticon bridge opened with a flash and Knockout saluted to her jauntily, "We'll be sure to tell the Big O you said hello!"

"Arcee!" Bulkhead roared, but she ignored him and transformed, speeding after the medic and his assistant.

She hit a slab of rubble and soared through the bridge, landing hard on her wheels in the halls of the Nemesis. She transformed and leapt onto the first Vehicon she saw, slamming him into the wall with a blade in his shoulder.

"Where is Optimus?!" She shouted into his visored face, "Answer me!"

The mech didn't answer, but after a few seconds, his visor went dim as he no doubt received an internal comm-link. Moments later the trembling Vehicon fainted. The femme growled and dropped the mech, whirling around with an almost crazed look in her indigo optics. She locked optics on the bot across the hall from her and her face went slack before twisting into a snarl as she noticed the familiar red glow of the fusion cannon levelled on her spark.

"Terabyte." She hissed, raising her blasters. "I vouched for you."

The other femme's optics were wide and Terabyte reached out with one hand towards her, "Arcee! Wait- I don't have a choice! Tell Ratchet Orion Pax is-"

Whatever Terabyte was trying to say was cut off abruptly as Arcee charged, only to find herself suddenly freezing in the middle of the Arctic, firing blaster shots at a now rather indignant looking polar bear.

"Scrap."

Ratchet looked at her probingly, having already decided she wasn't going to collapse or glitch out. "You weren't able to determine the Decepticons' location, or if Optimus was even aboard ship?"

"…I couldn't confirm." Arcee muttered, rubbing a bit of snow off her arm, "Terabyte was onboard. With a Decepticon insignia. Said something about an Orion Pax."

The crash of something being pulverized rang through the base and both bots looked over to see Bulkhead hovering over a crushed spanner. Jetfire was staring at the Wrecker with his mouth agape.

"Bulkhead!" Ratchet complained loudly, only to be cut off by a furious olive Wrecker.

"What? You _needed_ that?!" He roared, lobbing it at the wall to shatter into even smaller pieces. "Only thing _I_ need is our head honcho back!"

Cliffjumper came out of the rec room where he'd been mindlessly playing video games with the kids. Arcee's spirits fell even more as she noted that he'd left off of the façade of cheer as he said quietly, "It wasn't your fault, 'Cee."

She levelled him with a challenging glare, cocking a skeptical optic ridge, "If any of us needed rescuing, Optimus would have found a way. I didn't. Simple as that."

Beside her, Bumblebee whirred in a reassuring, yet simultaneously depressed way.

"And Optimus was wrong about Terabyte." Arcee finished tonelessly, internally kicking herself for how betrayed and angry she felt. She should have known.

"We all were." Ratchet said softly, sounding the way she felt.

A low growl rumbled through the base, growing into an echoing clamor that shook her to her struts. Turning around, the blue and pink femme shuddered as the towering jet stomped in, his immense frame standing taller even than the Prime, reminding everyone present of how normally he purposely held himself in an unintimidating manner.

Now though, Arcee felt like a bug on the wall, about to be squashed by the gladiator jet. Her spark trembled in its chamber, and for the first time in vorns, she was reminded of what it felt like to be truly terrified in the face of certain annihilation. The mech radiated fury.

"She has not betrayed us!" Skyquake bellowed, storming straight towards her and Ratchet. "You dishonor her by such accusations! You dishonor us both!"

Her armor shrank close to her frame, and the Autobot two-wheeler rose and stepped back warily, the medic following her movements. "No offense, but the insignia on her waist and the cannon aimed at my spark made her intentions pretty clear."

His massive gray hand enveloped her abdomen as he picked her up like a doll, slamming her into the wall with a snarl. "I have known her from the joor she stepped into Decepticon ranks! _SHE IS NO TRAITOR!_ "

Jetfire stepped in and laid a large white hand on Skyquake's chest, using his free hand to pry the jet's servos from around her waist. His rich tone was calm and soft, "You are correct, Skyquake. I believe Terabyte is a good femme, and she is an Autobot at her core and spark. She has not betrayed us. If she has warned us that Optimus Prime is now Orion Pax, then she understands the severity of the situation. I believe that we may trust her judgement, and in that trust, we should assume that she is doing all in her ability to help our Prime. This arguing and speculating accomplishes naught. The topic to be discussed is their rescue, not their loyalty, and to think otherwise is to be a fool."

Everyone in the room fell into silence.

"We are Autobots. We are bots of honor; seeking peace, equality, and freedom for all. We are more than our Prime, we are more than an army, we are a family. A family at war, but a family nonetheless. Our cause is not lost with our Prime and it should be our goal to ensure that he sees that when we do bring him, and Terabyte, home."

Arcee, now back on her pedes rubbing her sides, felt her frame deflate in guilt. What was wrong with them? Had they truly grown so used to the War and the routine of having a Prime that they needed a newcomer who had been in stasis for the whole entire course of the War to teach them how to be Autobots?

"Ratchet!" A familiar angry voice hollered from the terminal, instantly making the whole team grimace. "What happened out there? Reports indicate at least a dozen wounded! The hit's on _me_ to provide some explanation." Fowler said in his accusing, demanding manner, "You bots better get your act together, or the Pentagon will make me shut down your base."

With that pleasant statement, the man closed the connection. Miko, who'd come over with the rest of the kids when everyone started yelling and Jetfire gave his speech, looked up at them all with worry in her eyes. "But where would you go?"

Ratchet, his expression hard and furious, threw up his hands in exasperation, "Who knows? Maybe they'll ship us out to some _island_ , or _fire us into space_! Wouldn't that be a _welcome_ relief."

"I don't blame Fowler." Arcee spoke up, surprising herself with those words. "Optimus would have evacuated all humans in the area before engaging the 'Cons."

Bulkhead glared at her, his tone hard, "We don't actually _know_ what Optimus would have done because _he's not here_!"

"Way to go, Bulk!" Cliffjumper cheered sarcastically, bowing in mockery whilst clapping his hands in applause, "Hail, King of the Obvious! Anything else you'd like to add?"

"Nothing I can say in front of the kids." The Wrecker muttered darkly, clenching his fists tightly.

Jack stepped in at that, looking offended by their collective moods, "Hey, aren't we overlooking one positive? Nobody's talking about what the Cons just got their claws on."

She rolled her indigo optics at her charge. Great Jack. Just great.

"Oh yes," Ratchet drawled, sitting down with a huff on a box of cargo that had yet to be put in storage. "We managed to allow them to finally acquire a power source for their space bridge!"

" **And that's good news how?"** Bumblebee put in with another dejected string of bleeps.

"We let them finish their space bridge." Jack said, as though that was the most obvious good news he could come up with.

Arcee snorted, "Why, so they can bring more zombies from Cybertron?"

"No." The oldest human boy explained patiently, "So we can commandeer it. And send _me_ to Cybertron."

Miko gaped at him for a moment from where she had sat down on the floor, leaning on the cargo box Arcee was sitting on. "Whoa. That's a pretty good idea."

In spite of her better judgement, the blue and pink warrior femme laughed humorlessly, throwing up a hand and shaking her helm at the absurdity, "Oh, well, if _Miko_ thinks it's a good idea!"

For the first time that afternoon, Raf spoke up encouragingly, "Nobody's saying it will be easy, but you guys have seized a space bridge before!"

"You blew one up." Skyquake corrected dryly, still looking horribly scary in Arcee's opinion. Not that she would ever admit that to anyone ever in her life. While she was being brutally honest with herself, she had no idea how Terabyte could be so constantly at peace and more relaxed with him than any other when he was basically on of the scariest 'Cons she'd met short of Megatron.

"That's a whole lot different from seizing and holding one." Ratchet pointed out in agreement.

" **None of which matters anyway, while we don't know where it is."** Bee noted.

Miko looked at them all like they'd lost their processors, jumping to her feet so that her black and pink hair bounced. "He-llooo? It's a _space_ bridge, isn't it?"

Jetfire laughed at the girl, in a condescending sort of 'discussing this new specimen in my lab, it's so fascinating' way. "The term 'space' does not refer to its physical location, 'Miko', but rather its transport range."

"And we've been monitoring Earth's orbit since the last one, we'd know if it were there." Arcee added, now picking at the peeling stickers on the top of the crate she was seated on.

"So the space bridge could be anywhere here on Earth?" Jack confirmed, his fleshy features twisting into a musing frown.

"Like trying to find a servo in a scrapyard." She replied, sounding awfully unenthusiastic even to herself.

"Or a warzone." The green ex-Con said from where he stood glaring out at nothing with his back to their group.

Miko, Raf, and Jack all shared a glance before looking up at them all expectantly, chorusing, "Then maybe we better start looking!"

 **Nemesis.**

"Arcee! Wait- I don't have a choice! Tell Ratchet Orion Pax is-" Terabyte watched as, too late, Arcee disappeared through the bridge portal to who-knew-where. She snatched down her hand and straightened stiffly, feeling a familiar field brush up against her own.

"Tell Ratchet I am what, Terabyte?"

She repressed a keen as she received a warning ping from Soundwave, something that was happening more and more frequently as the amnesiac Prime asked more and more questions. She could feel the Matrix stirring in him, yet she knew that it would still be orns before he was Optimus Prime again. In the meantime, that made life rather difficult for her.

The small femme winced as he set his hand on her shoulder, sending shooting pains down her arm and struts. Truth be told, her whole frame ached like nothing else from Knockout's latest experiment results. But at the same time, while she felt like the action would kill her to repeat, he had almost succeeded. For just a fraction of a klick, she'd Shifted into his image.

"I… I merely meant to tell her that you were now ours and under Decepticon protection." The spy's left finial jerked back painfully, reminding her again of the experiments of the past several days. Grimacing behind her battle mask, she led on towards her living suite where she and Pax had grown accustomed to taking their fuel, since going to the mess hall had ended so poorly.

Once in her quarters – she'd taken the time to put together a more long-term solution to gaining their privacy – Orion shook his helm at her, smiling wistfully. "It grieves me to see that you do not trust me, Terabyte."

For a while she said nothing in response, simply serving Energon – taking the liberty of a small splurge and dumping a somewhat excessive amount of silver shavings into it. It was that sort of a day. At last she sighed heavily, "I do trust you, Orion Pax… The issue is not my trust of you; it is the Decepticons' trust of me."

"Because of your past with the Autobots?" He asked, frowning and nodding, "That is… logical. However, that does not excuse the fact that you are still lying to me consistently." He smirked as she opened her mouth to object, holding up a restraining hand as he took a seat on her sofa. "Please, do not patronize me. I am without memories, not intelligence. Your left finial flicks back every time you tell a falsehood."

Terabyte shifted her optics away from the Prime's piercingly disappointed gaze. She swirled her silver-infused Energon and took a long sip, her mask splitting to admit the fuel and snapping back with the skill that belied vorns of habit.

She cycled another deep draft of air through her systems, knowing full well that every suspicion Soundwave had about her would only mean more punishment via the surgical table. Every joor she spent on the Nemesis had her plagued with regret. How had she ever gone so long without seeing that this was what the Decepticons were? Had they ever been better than this, or had her hate simply run so deep for so long that she hadn't cared enough to notice?

"You do not understand, Orion." She said quietly, the foreign codes in her mind making her helm ache as she walked the fine line of obedience and rebellion. For now, she chose obedience, sitting down and shutting down her sensory array to force her finial still for the moment. "I have a duty to fulfill. I am not lying to you; I am trying to protect you from knowledge that at this time would do you more harm than good. It is in your best interests that we break things to you gradually. Allow you time to process."

Inclining her helm faintly, she gave a wry smile behind her mask, trying not to picture Knockout's grinning face as he delved into her internals once again in his search for a complete, flawless artificial Shifter. "I apologize if this miscommunication has led to your feeling untrusted, for that is not the case. Megatron merely wishes the best for you, I'm sure, and we ought to trust our leader."

When the mech nodded in agreement, his brooding expression returning to the bright and trusting one that she'd come to identify with Pax, she reactivated her sensory network, feeling a wave of nausea at the returned input. The naivety of a mech who hadn't had to see the decavorns of war. Of a mech, of her Prime, relieved of the burdens of leadership that he bore alone.

She smiled at the mech from behind her mask, rising abruptly to her pedes. As they left the suite and went their separate ways – Orion to Megatron, and herself to Soundwave – Terabyte shuttered her optics, trying to sort the confused thoughts in her helm.

She liked this side of the Prime. When the Matrix returned, would Pax again be listed among the casualties of their war? Or would he remain in the Prime's mind and cause the Autobots to accuse her of changing their Prime? And this new mess with the Shifting… If she were prone to superstition, she'd say it would take a miracle to work her way out of all of this.

Terabyte shook her helm and continued towards Soundwave's office, still deep in thought. She needed to contact the Autobots, somehow. Especially since she'd seen Arcee. The Autobots were probably in chaos right now, and Skyquake. Skyquake would be absolutely livid, because Arcee would have gone back and declared her a traitor, and the green jet would blow up in a massive rage and then probably he and Cliffjumper would start planning some stupid, half-baked rescue mission that would get them both killed.

She needed to let them know she was okay. If you could call tortured and experimented on while constructing a mountain of lies over the helm of the mech she was supposed to be helping 'okay'.

If that could be considered 'okay' then she was perfectly, one-hundred-percent okay.


	3. A Shift in Perspectives

**The Honor in Duty**

 **Chapter 3**

 **A Shift in Perspectives**

* * *

 **Merry Christmas and Happy New Year, everyone! Hey, wouldja look at that, I'm even posting on a Friday, like I'm supposed to! Anywho, this chapter was pretty fun to write, so I hope you all enjoy it. This chapter goes a bit more into several things, so with luck, it'll answer some of the questions you may or may not have... It may also spark a few more...**

 **Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I didn't get the rights to the Transformers during the holidays, so I still do not own Transformers, or Transformers: Prime. Huge thanks as always to the grand and amazing... *drum roll, please*... enmused!**

 _ **Review Responses: To AllSpark Princess: Yes... Things do seem rather glum for Team Prime and our favorite defectors don't they? But don't worry, like they say, it's darkest before the dawn... When that dawn will get its act together and show up... Well. Not even I know all the answers. Have fun with this next chapter, and I look forward to getting to read more of your what you think!**_

 _ **To redlinevcr:**_ _ **And here you go, another chapter in the lives of our team! Hope you enjoy!**_

 _ **To adelphe24: Thank you for reviewing! Every new reader/reviewer makes my day! I see you've finished up with Duty and Deceit... I really did finish up on a bit of massive cliffie there didn't I? Lucky for you, I don't plan on stopping anytime soon, so keep coming back for your semi-regular dose of Team Prime  & Co. Hmm... Terabyte, Skyquake, and Jetfire are giving me the evil-optic for reducing them to '& Co'... Better go take care of that...**_

 _ **To**_ _ **Cashagon: Ooh, yes. I've been leading up to the Shifting for a long, long time now... Honestly, I'm probably as excited about getting it written as you are to be reading it! And yes, while being the household dishwasher, one often finds many things to ponder. As far as the Dark Energon goes, I considered the Dark En affecting her, but it just seemed to cliche to go through with. So basically, the our favorite Decepticon medic purged her systems and that's part of why she had been unconscious in the med-bay for two orns - about three and a half weeks. Thank you for your questions, and I hope I've answered them, and I look forward to hearing more.**_

* * *

 _The tiny femme sat in solitude in the renowned Urayan oil baths, the only bot to come out at such an absurd joor of the night cycle. It was almost sunrise now. That was why she'd come out here so late. To watch the suns rise as she had so many times with Skyquake. She drew her black diamond shaped knees up to her chest, hugging them close as she soaked forlornly in the pleasantly steaming hot oil._

 _She had to admit, she'd needed this. She'd needed this really badly. After all, it had been over a quartex since Skyquake left and she'd been overworking herself for every waking astrosecond of it. The oil felt so good on her protoform and in her golden joints. The spy stretched out and let herself sink into the bath so that just her optics and finials stuck out of it._

 _Three rotations into her vacation and she had only briefly thought about her work. She had however thought of Skyquake almost nonstop. She smiled wistfully behind her mask. There was no point in pining away waiting for him to come back. Missions off-world… well, most bots never came back. Skyquake of course, would. Eventually. But until then, she would continue living her life. Normally._

 _He would be so disappointed to see how much time she'd already spent being miserable. He promised he would return and she ought to rest easy trusting that promise, because no distance or time could taint their friendship._

" _Good morning!" Someone called brightly, slipping into the oil by the small femme. "Beautiful, isn't it? The sunrise, I mean. Of course, the oil feels just lovely as always too. I'm Novaflare, Autobot scout – recently promoted into Bumblebee's team! I'm so excited, I start next orn!"_

 _The Decepticon femme straightened minutely in the oil, getting her weapons ready should this bubbly scout decide to quit chatting and attack. The Autobot femme was a compact four-wheeled vehicle, her armor magenta with gold and white accents – ridiculously bright for a scout. She was a young recruit, probably still a decavorn or so older than the spy._

" _The sunrise is indeed splendid." The Prussian blue and black Decepticon agreed carefully, watching the bright scout warily. If the Autobot did nothing, then she too would not act. She was on vacation, and this Novaflare person seemed naïve enough to let alone. "My designation is Terabyte."_

" _Oh! Are you an Enforcer? You sound just like one, I'm sure you are!" Novaflare giggled, "My creator's an Enforcer, and my carrier was too!"_

 _She raised an optic ridge, but decided to humor the femme, "Ah… Something of the sort, yes."_

 _There weren't supposed to be Autobots in this sector. What would Soundwave want her to do? Reveal her identity and attempt to detain her? Ignore her and finish the last rotation of her leave in peace?_

" _So what rank are you? Have you ever detained a criminal? Ooh! Whose division are you in?"_

 _Absorbing the slew of questions, the spy blinked. "I… My rank is Major, Second in Command of the Communications and Intelligence Division. I serve under Soundwave and the Lord Protector."_

 _Novaflare let out a shrill squeak, leaping out of the oil bath and levelling a trembling stun gun at her. Her sweet, cheery voice shook as she said, "Y-you're a Decepticon?! Uh, p-put your h-hands where I c-can see them and stand up…"_

 _As she began to do as asked, the magenta femme shrieked in panic, "Slowly! S-slowly, um, p-please."_

 _Smiling faintly behind her battle mask, the spy obliged, slowing her motions further, her hands still raised over her helm. Hot black oil slid down her frame, her yellow biolights shining through it into the ever-lightening morning. "Am I the first Decepticon you have met in person, Novaflare? If you do not mind my asking, of course."_

 _Like she'd expected, the Autobot femme looked utterly confused now, the stun blaster lowering slightly of its own accord. "U-um, maybe? Commander T-Trailbreaker s-says I'm not s'posed to talk to you during an arrest…"_

" _You have likely been told innumerable tales of Decepticon horrors, am I right?" The spy went on softly, "I do not much fit that description, now do I?"_

"… _N-no…" Came the shaky, uncertain reply. "B-but I still need to restrain you, 'cause I called for back-up, a-and I'll be in trouble if you're not in cuffs…"_

" _You called for back-up." She repeated firmly, her tone hardening, "Who is your back-up?"_

 _Novaflare shook her helm obstinately, pulling out a pair of stasis cuffs and approaching cautiously, stun gun once again aimed at her spark. The spy's engine growled, but she stayed put. "You're on the wrong side of this war, Novaflare. The Autobots have destroyed entire cities for a mere handful of enemies. They did that to my city, they'll do that to yours, and they won't stop until Cybertron itself is dead."_

 _The Autobot hesitated for a moment, considering her words before at last discarding them. "That isn't true! We stand for peace, a-and freedom!"_

" _Protihex. That was my home. Look it up when you are back in Iacon; your records will gloat about the marvellous victory of the Wreckers."_

 _When the femme continued advancing, the two-wheeler gave up on persuading her, and sprang into action. Dodging stun blasts with a fluid cartwheel, she leapt into the air and kicked the brightly painted femme to the ground, pinning her under one foot as she crouched down. "I'm sorry, but I can't let you do that. I know what your superiors are like, even if you do not yet."_

 _Picking up the scout's stun gun, she stunned the Autobot and ran, already hearing the engines of the other Autobots driving in._

"Yo, Skydump! Careful with that!" Agent Fowler shouted, waving his arms angrily, "You see those big red letters? They say 'fragile'! As in, don't drop it!" The agent waved his arms some more when Skyquake didn't respond with more than a glower. "Hey! Decepticon, tin-head! You even listening to a word I just said?"

The large green jet stared at the human. His expression would have been frighteningly calm if the fleshy had cared enough to look higher than his knee. Ruby optics shone with a murderous light, and Skyquake could practically feel the organics internal systems crushing to a paste beneath his foot. He could practically hear the fleshy begging for its life beforehand.

At last he bent down for a moment and picked up the dark-skinned arrogant flesh-bag by his too-small suit coat, lifting him up to glare at him face-to-face.

"Fleshling. My designation is Skyquake, and I am a Decepticon no longer," He sneered at the human held between his servos, watching the sweat pour down his face as his squishy spark pattered abnormally fast, "As evidenced by your continued puny existence. An existence which your levels of respect are putting at risk, flesh-bag."

The man spluttered, finally just shouting, "Put me down!"

When he did so, the man crossed his arms and glared up at him. "When the big O hears about this, I'll-"

"Do absolutely nothing, because Optimus Prime isn't here!" Skyquake roared at him, loud enough that the sound waves actually knocked the human to his aft.

Agent Fowler continued to glower mulishly at the mech until at last an odd expression came over his face and the man wilted. "You think I don't know that? The Cons have your techy girlfriend and our boss, and there's nothing any of us can do about it."

"There is much we can do about it." He countered, moving the last crate of equipment onto the trailer. "Our current leadership simply refuses to act."

With that, Skyquake transformed and jetted off, leaving the dark fleshy in the dust. He took a small comfort in the soft late summer winds caressing his wings and the thin clouds sliding around him as he sped through the air. He twirled through the air, spinning into a compact spiral, revelling in the speed, the freedom.

The winds seemed to shriek in delight as he cut through, then their jubilant cries mellowed into a familiar twinkling laugh as he levelled out. He suddenly became all too aware of how light he seemed without her perched on his wings.

The green jet's spark gave a pang of longing and the mech dropped from the sky like a stone, transforming as he went so that the air's cheerful giggling would cease. He had no time for gallivanting through the clouds. She was in Decepticon hands, and now that she knew what they were, the veneer of decency would be gone and whatever purpose Megatron had for her was bound to be less than pleasant.

They would make Terabyte suffer for her betrayal, and for his, and he knew for a fact that she was not in full control of her actions. Whatever Megatron had used as a bargaining chip with her now held her under his power.

Skyquake landed hard on his feet on the plateau of the Autobot base, stirring up a cloud of dust and frightening a nesting eagle from its perch. The bird squawked at him rebukingly, fluffing its wings unhappily.

Terabyte - and the Prime - had been gone for two quartex. Four months, he had been patient. He had waited for the Autobots to mount a rescue op. They'd gone on patrols, shifted junk for the squishies, and hi-jacked the Decepticon space bridge to send Arcee and the sparkling to Cybertron to 'find Vector Sigma'. None of that was helping get back their bots, and if they weren't going to do anything about it, he would.

Four months, he'd been a good Autobot POW and followed the order of things. But now he was done being a good soldier. It was time to be a good friend. It was time to bring their bots home.

Click.

Terabyte's gaze shot up in alarm and she watched the faint purple glow traverse the ventilation shaft directly above her berth. She closed her optics quickly. Silently the spy charged up her cannon and let her battle protocols whirr to life, but she remained in her berth, bios faint and vents at recharge speeds.

As expected, a moment later she heard another series of quiet clicking and the access panel to the vents opened. Internal proximity alerts blared. She received a notification from her quarters that there was an intruder above her berth.

A tiny appendage pierced into the berth, causing Terabyte's frame to slide towards the dip as she continued to feign sleep. When she sensed that the insectoid intruder was about to 'wake' her, the two-wheeler said calmly, "Good joor, Airachnid."

She smirked as the spider femme gave a startled squeak, then a defeated snarl as she felt the warmth of Terabyte's cannon pressed into her belly. She opened her optics just in time to watch Airachnid's foot get tangled in the nanoweave berth coverings, then the whole femme tripped over and crashed into the display case next to the berth, cursing as a heavy-assault rifle fell from its perch and landed a nasty dent on her shoulder.

Rising from her berth as though nothing were wrong, she helped the purple and gold spider to her pedes with a small bow of her helm. "Please, take a seat. Would you like some Energon, ma'am?"

Airachnid glared at her, but sat down as requested, curling her pedes up under herself and acting like all of this was a part of her plan in intruding. "At this joor?"

Ignoring the question, Terabyte stalked over to her kitchen and pulled out two small cubes, "Sweet or regular?"

"Actually, I was just passing through." Airachnid said finally, rising from the hard couch. The spy's finials picked up a suspicious motion from the spider, but she didn't turn around. "Thank you for your _unexpected_ hospitality, Flip-Sides. But I wouldn't want to intrude."

"Is that so?" She asked innocently, frowning minutely as the femme behind her continued moving around her berth as she spoke. "I will not keep you then. If you don't mind replacing the cover to my ventilation shaft as you leave?"

"Oh yes, of course." The other femme said through gritted denta, obviously very displeased that whatever plan she had was foiled so easily. "Anything for our dear traitor."

When Terabyte turned around, the spider had left and her room was exactly as it had been prior to her guest's arrival. She spent the next groon searching for traps or left behind 'gifts', but at last gave up and went back to recharge, the snarled remarks, biting taunts, and sneers of the Nemesis crew swirling through her disturbed recharge.

 **That Morning.**

Beep. Beep. Beep.

That was weird. She didn't have an alarm set. So what was that beeping? The beeping sped up, and the spy bolted upright, searching frantically for a bomb. Rapid beeping was never a good sign, and right after a visit from Airachnid, it could only be unpleasant. As she searched, the beeps sped into a continuous whine and Terabyte gave up her search, bolting for the best cover she could find, which unfortunately was very little.

Smoke started pouring from under her berth and she quickly powered down her audials to lessen the pain, covering her helm with her hands and waiting. A fraction of an astrosecond later her quarters shook and her belongings crashed all around her. Two more explosions rattled the room and when Terabyte looked up, everything she owned was covered in soot and nothing was where it had been left.

Pieces of her berth, which had contained much of the damage, were strewn across her room. And as if everything she owned being destroyed wasn't enough, a disgusting sticky white substance coated most of the room, and she herself was covered in the stuff. Spider's silk and charcoal.

She sighed heavily, rising from behind the shattered display case where she'd taken cover. A lovely start to the day, courtesy of Airachnid.

And she was late for work.

 **One Orn Later**

"Orion asks many questions."

Terabyte stiffened at the voice of the warlord, straightening minutely and making sure her armor was sufficiently flared. She inclined her helm in as slight of a bow as she could manage. "A valuable trait in an archivist-"

"But not a Decepticon." Megatron cut her off sharply. "It is only a matter of time before he unravels our fabrications and his innate sense of right and wrong rises to the surface. I only hope that Orion will complete Project 'Iacon' before I am forced to destroy him once and for all."

She frowned faintly at his choice of words, an action that did not go unnoticed by him. Meanwhile Soundwave stood as stoic as ever behind his office desk.

The silver Decepticon Lord Protector's expression grew dark and he stepped forward, looming over the petite two-wheeler menacingly, his deep engine rumbling loudly through the small expanse of the office. Instinctively the femme shrank within her armor, yet also instinctively showing no outward signs of fear.

"Yes, Terabyte, I am not actually so evil as your Autobots have led you to believe-"

"You did that yourself, my _lord_."

He rolled his violet optics at her, turning around to glower at the door with his hands clasped behind his back. "I would prefer to keep my meddling, self-righteous brother alive, believe it or not. It is not my proudest trait, but it is as it is."

Terabyte showed no reaction, but her spark gave a pulse of regret. She of all bots should know that bots were not always all that they seemed or acted. After all, she'd unwillingly betrayed her new faction twice in about as many quartex. Yet Megatron was not in any way the same as her. He knew all along what the Decepticons were and he enjoyed it and he created them like this.

She pursed her masked lips. "I suppose you will discard preference in favor of slaughtering our Prime so you can conquer and pillage the cosmos in the name of tyrannical peace?"

The silver warlord grinned at her, baring his filed fangs. "What was it you accused me of being? Ah yes, a 'homicidal, Unicron-possessed megalomaniac bent on galactic domination' I believe it was? Yes… Quite fitting, don't you think, Soundwave?"

The communications head practically radiated displeasure, and his engine actually let out a light growl, almost unnoticeably. Then Terabyte heard her own voice, carefully inflectionless, "With all due respect, sir, shall we get to the point?"

Megatron just chuckled at his third in command, still bearing that menacing smirk. "As you wish… Knockout!"

The red medic came in immediately as summoned, bowing respectfully to his leader and the CI head, then sneering at her. "Yes, Lord Megatron?"

"Report."

"Project Shifter is progressing admirably, given the, ah, shall we say _invasive_ nature of the operations involved." Knockout winked at her, sending a shiver down her aching spine from her last 'operation'. "As you know, Makeshift's CNA within the test subject is fully functional, yet her frame and protoform lacked the molecular versatility to enact it. Long story short, I've engineered a prototype dose of nanobots that will rearrange her molecular structure at will, creating the desired Shifting ability, with the added bonuses. When I finish, she should be able to Shift into anyone she wishes, excluding combiners and titans. Theoretically, of course."

"How long?" Megatron rumbled, his intrigue clearly piqued.

"Oh, I've already administered the dose, and put it to the test. Repeatedly."

She clamped down on the whine that tried to escape her engine as she recalled the first test. And the second and the third. It had been nearly two quartex since the Unicron ordeal. Four Earth months. Arcee's brief moment on the ship had been about one month ago. The crew of the Nemesis had been anything but kind to her, and Airachnid was the worst, wreaking havoc in her life as much as she possibly could. In that time, Knockout had worked ceaselessly on this project, and the toll of his experimentations on her frame had even caused the medic to leave off on his additional 'procedures' whose only purpose had been to cause her pain.

The testing of the nanobots was progressing though. Not even she could deny him that. In fact, they worked, completely. What he had been working on now was merely attempting to lessen the pain the molecular restructuring caused. That side of the project however, had not been progressing. Or maybe she just couldn't tell anymore.

"Demonstrate." The warlord ordered, sitting down and leaning back to enjoy the show.

Knockout glanced at her and shifted nervously, his proud grin slipping into more of a grimace. For the briefest of moments, Terabyte thought she glimpsed a flash of pity and regret in his cherry-red optics. A touch of fear shone in her own ruby gaze.

"Ahh… About that…" The medic cringed faintly under Megatron's violet scrutiny, "The nanobots are still a… work in progress. Perhaps an official demonstration would be best at a later date?"

"Terabyte," She stiffened at her former leader's commanding tone, the slave code whirring in expectation of a new order to enact. "Demonstrate the good doctor's work."

Before she could respond or answer in any manner, her flared armor relaxing in preparation. Her protoform turned icy cold and her armor felt suddenly as though it were burning to slag. Her engine let out a quiet whine that grew exponentially as the Shifting began. Her optics widened and she felt her face-mask melt away as it reformed, her fangs lengthening and sharpening and her height nearly tripling in less than a klick.

Her shoulders broadened and spiked up. When her finials began to Shift, Terabyte shrieked in agony, her ability to restrain herself lost as the pain reached a climax. At last her armor fell back into place and she went still, vents heaving raggedly as pink coolant slid down the silver face that she now wore.

Megatron looked her over from helm to toe with criticizing optics, at last rising from his seat and looking her straight in the optics. His expression was hard to read, but she could tell he was impressed. Tossing a quick glance down at herself, she saw a perfect replica of the warlord in front of her. She'd Shifted into Megatron.

"Speak, femme."

"Megatron is commanded by no one." She replied contemptuously, adopting his mannerisms and speech patterns with ease, her altered vocalizers producing his voice perfectly. Her rendition of the warlord was flawed only by the streaks of dried coolant on her face. Or rather, on his face that she wore.

"Excellent." Megatron replied, smirking, yet all the while regarding her face as though he'd never seen tears on his face before. "Well done, Knockout. Though the realm of stealth could stand to be… improved."

The red medic chuckled nervously up at the two Megatrons looking down at him, the real one smirking like he wanted to kill something, and the imposter glaring at him with much the same intent. "Yes, the, ah, tears and wailing do take somewhat from the effect."

Terabyte's engine growled, a deep, echoing rumble that shook the room, making her momentarily quirk her lips upwards in a shocked, but pleased smirk. Growling in anger really was much more intimidating when one was this size.

"Enough." Megatron said, an undertone of satisfaction hidden beneath his displeasure. "Change back and return to your duties, Lieutenant."

"Lord Megatron," Knockout said, his smooth drawl a touch concerned as he glanced at her again, "Perhaps it would be best if we allowed her frame time to recover before-"

Whatever else he was going to say was drowned from her audials amidst the sound of her own screams. Ingrained slave codes would wait for nothing.

She shivered convulsively, stretching out a shaky hand and hitting the button for the floor she wanted. Knockout, for a reason that for now escaped her, had insisted on escorting her to Orion's lab. He'd already given her more pain medications than she figured was normal.

Terabyte had managed so far to walk on her own, but to her chagrin couldn't muster the additional strength to flare her armor. When the lift came to a stop, she wobbled and the red Decepticon medic caught her with a dismayed groan that was no doubt for his probably now-scuffed paint job.

"The nanobots weren't ready for such a drastic Shift." He muttered, then, sounding genuinely concerned enough that she was sure she was hallucinating, asked, "You can hardly stand… you're certain you have no choice?"

"Slave code, KO…" She replied, her voice harsh and static-laced as she pulled away from his steadying grip and marched on doggedly, stumbling occasionally. "You know that as well as I do. Why should you care, anyway?"

The mech scoffed, sounding much more like himself, "Well a dead test subject would _hardly_ be ideal. After all, finding a new guinea pig to agonize would be _so_ much harder if word got out that the first one died. Unless you'd rather put _that_ theory to the test?"

The navy and black femme hummed in agreement, her scarlet biolights flickering as she tripped on a piece of scrap metal some Vehicon must have dropped. Once again, Knockout caught her just before she could face-plant into the grungy Nemesis floors.

"Have you ever considered changing sides?"

"Ha!" Knockout nearly dropped her before setting her aright and pulling away to check his paint job. "I can see that's worked out so well for you, Flip-Sides. You switched over and your only reward was slave code to _Megatron_."

"And what did loyalty to the Decepticons give me?" Terabyte leaned against the wall for a moment to allow her systems to cool off a fraction. "A decavorn of lies, shattered friendships, and-"

"Skyquake." He drawled back, cocking an optic ridge at her, daring her to argue.

She fell silent, tripping along the rest of the way to Orion's lab, neither medic nor test subject speaking. Upon finally reaching her destination, she asked quietly, "… Who do you stay for?"

The red medic levelled her with a flat stare, obviously feeling she'd crossed some unseen line. At last he smirked dryly, "Oh, you know, my dear friends, Buff and Polish."

With that, he swaggered back the way they'd come, leaving Terabyte leaning heavily on the wall in front of the lab. If she'd been in a better frame of mind, she might have seen the troubled look in his optics, or heard the slight waver in his voice. She punched in the code with trembling servos, trying three times before her pain dulled processors remembered which code was right.

Orion frowned, tapping rapidly over the keyboards. This was wrong. He ought not be doing this, hacking into the Nemesis' files like an enemy spy. He ought to trust Terabyte. He ought to trust _Megatron,_ his own brother.

But they were both lying to him. Over even the littlest things, and they didn't think he realized it. He told Terabyte that he'd discovered her quirk, the way her finial gave her away when she was lying. Megatron had his own tells as well, though it was plain that the mech had become significantly more advanced in the art of deceit in his vorns of absence.

What he was finding in the records was disturbing, and it was becoming very clear to him that a majority of the files had been heavily modified. For what purpose, he had yet to decipher.

Starscream. These records claimed him to be the SIC of the Decepticon army. Yet he was nowhere to be found on board and his name had been erased from the crew manifest. He would have to inquire further into this matter…

Thunk. Tap-tap-tap-tap. _Access denied._

Tap _…_ Tap-tap… Tap. _Access denied._

Orion Pax cocked his helm and quickly traced his path through the systems and erased his digital footprint, closing down all evidence of tampering. He turned and opened the door right as whoever was on the other side submitted yet another wrong code. Nevertheless, the door opened and she gained a look of weary success.

The femme shoved herself upright from where she was leaning on the door frame, limping into the room and giving him the usual respectful half-bow that he still didn't understand. The action seemed to set off her equilibrium and she tripped right into his arms with a grunt and a hiss.

"Terabyte…" He rumbled, watching the tiny femme in his arms with concern. He seemed to be finding her in this position quite a lot. Which was a rather puzzling occurrence, as the manifests claimed she had not left the Nemesis since her arrival on board with him. "You are unwell. What ails you?"

"I'm afraid the matter is… classified." She bit out, sounding quite aggravated with her own answer. She seemed to want to say more, yet remained silent.

The large scarlet and blue mech's engine gave a disgruntled grumble. "I apologize, Terabyte, but I refuse to continue in this manner. Your condition has degraded exponentially in the past two quartex back on the Nemesis, and all of my inquiries have been rebuffed."

He carried her with ease, setting her down gently across two chairs. Her frame was too light. Unhealthily light. In order for her frame to weigh so little, her very protoform would have to have degraded. "You… lack weight… You must see the medic."

The navy and black femme sat up stubbornly, politely pushing his hands away as he attempted to pick her up again. "I assure you, the medic is well aware of my condition, Orion Pax."

Pax raised a sceptical optic ridge at her, his spark stirring in its chamber. Feelings not his own swept through him, a sense of ancientness and wisdom about them. "Something restrains you, something from within."

"Please, Orion." Terabyte's voice sounded pained and her ruby optics clouded over with a pain he could only recognize as mental. With every word she spoke, he could see the pain growing, "You do not understand. I _can't_ answer your questions. The Decepticons are tampering with bio-mechanical genetics, along with slave coding and I am-"

Her helm jerked to the side and the femme let out a little gasp. Her voice was cold and inflectionless – almost robotic – when she spoke next. "I must serve my master, the mighty Lord Megatron. You ought to continue in your work as ordered, Orion, lest disciplinary action be taken."

Orion's spark cringed. If his brother truly was meddling in Cybertronian genetic manipulation and slave coding, two highly unethical fields of science outlawed by even the Senate, perhaps more had changed in his vorns of absence than he had wished to accept. He watched as the little femme returned to her work on the Iacon project.

He looked down at the floor for a moment, thoughts roiling in conflict within him, his spark churning with the arguing voices of the ancients within it, almost as though a foreign creature dwelt within him.

It was pulling, tugging, tearing at his spark. Calling him.

 _Optimus Prime. Awake._

 _Awake!_


	4. The Weak and Weary

**The Honor in Duty**

 **Chapter 4**

 **The Weak and Weary**

* * *

 **Hello, readers! Here is your next chapter, hope you all enjoy it! This one is a bit more feelsy than usual even, so I'm going to recommend a nice cup of tea and an opportunity to read it all in one go. Any how, hang on tight and get ready for the ride! This chapter was so much fun to write, and I'm sure it'll be just as fun to read, so I'm eager to hear your thoughts, opinions, and even just expression of feels.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own the Transformers, or the Prime tv series. And mass thanks to enmused, for being my amazing beta!**

 ** _Review Responses -_ To _Cashagon:_ _Thank you for your faithful reviewing! As far as our dear, vain doctor goes, I can assure you that this will not be the last we see of KO's loyalties under question. However, like he said, he has something holding him with the Deceptions. What that is and if or when he will let it go and defect will have to remain a mystery for now!_**

 ** _To redlinevcr:_ _Well, I hadn't been planning on letting Sky loose this chapter, but what can I say? The muses tend to be rather persuasive, if not downright feisty at times! Anywho, your wish has come true and the chapter was a joy to write!_**

 ** _To Allspark_ _Princess_ _:_ _Oh boy, yeah, everything's leading up to a climax now and Megatron's plans are basically all going to the scrapyard, and fast. I almost feel sorry for the mech, y'know? If he weren't an evil warlord bent on galactic domination? A lot of stuff goes on in this chapter, and I'm looking forward to your feedback!_**

* * *

 _A tiny femme, alone in the dim lights of the training room pierced now and again with gold swirl of her Energon dagger, pretending the echoing silence wasn't killing her inside. The louder the echoes, the harder she pushed through the graceful battle forms her closest friend had taught her._

 _She pretended that every clash with a drone instead of Skyquake, or Nightracer, or even Thunderblast… she pretended it wasn't a repeated reminder of the fact that she was alone now. It was like Protihex all over again, only this time she had no one to blame. She was alone._

 _A quartex ago, she'd resolved to move on. To get on with her life. That resolution didn't make it any less lonely though._

 _The doors to the training facility hissed as they slid open, and the little Prussian blue two-wheeler tensed up, continuing more slowly through her forms so that she could watch the new-comer. She didn't recognize him. He was a medium-sized mech, painted mostly slate gray and black. He wore a visor that shone the same dark red as the accent strips on his abdomen, lower legs, and forearms._

 _Something about how he carried himself rang familiar to her, but she couldn't place why. When he seemed content to just lay against the wall and watch her with crossed arms and gleaming visor, she at last stopped what she was doing and walked over._

" _Fancy seeing you here." The mech commented with a dry chuckle. If she didn't know better, she'd have thought he sounded the slightest bit bitter._

 _She kept her visible expression schooled, glad as always for her battle mask. His voice… she couldn't put it to a name, but she could have sworn she'd met this mech before. "Do I know you?"_

" _No. Might have met in passing. The name's Meister."_

 _The little femme cocked her helm at the deep, rough-voiced grounder. Finally, she just nodded at him, "Terabyte. Are you a new transfer? From Kaon, perhaps?"_

 _His casual stance didn't change, but she noticed his claws twitch. He grinned at her, revealing a bright, razor-sharp row of fangs. "Yeah. Got lost on the way to the mess-hall. You've got some good moves. Mostly just shoot stuff, myself."_

" _Well." She said awkwardly, not trusting the mech, "You're a long way from the mess-hall, Meister. I have the cycle free, I'll show you around, maybe get you a map. Given how lost you are, the mess-hall will be our last stop."_

 _Meister huffed, standing up straight and following her out of the training arena. "Take it the mess-hall's on the other side of the citadel?"_

 _She nodded, smirking at the dark mech. Her latest promotion had put her in a much more social position, making it her duty to make sure bots got where they were supposed to be and knew how to get around. Meaning most of her off-time was spent giving tours of the Kolkularan citadel._

 _This mech unnerved her slightly, but his relaxed demeanor was easy to get used to, and by the end of the tour, she was comfortable. She didn't trust him, not really, but he was alright._

Orion cocked his helm at yet another record mentioning the Decepticon Second in Command designated Starscream. Megatron had told him that the SIC had perished in battle. The time-stamp dated the record as just a quartex old. It seemed unusual that the crew of the Nemesis should have recovered from the termination of a friend and leader so quickly.

He glanced down at his somewhat scratched red and blue plating, his three sets of tires spinning anxiously on their axles in his lower pedes. The femme that had helped in his rescue, something was terribly wrong with her, and she didn't seem to notice or care. Her condition had visibly deteriorated over the past orns, and it was only getting worse.

She had even gotten to the point of accidentally letting her guard down around him – which by his observation was not something that she did under any circumstance – as well as falling into recharge on the job. His spark reached out to help her, to keep this bot under his care safe and well, but she rebuffed his every attempt to aid her.

The door slid open behind him, but Orion didn't turn around, expecting to hear a cold greeting from the very femme he was thinking of. When he heard the clatter of a tall stack of Energon cubes shattering on the floor though, Pax left his work to look at the intruder curiously.

A click and a whirr registered in his processors, and the tall mech glanced down at the light gray seeker to find a pair of missiles aimed at his spark. The other mech's voice was unbelieving, shocked, and accusing, " _Optimus_ _Prime_?!"

"Please!" He took a wary step back, holding up his hands in a placating gesture of surrender, worry flooding his thoughts, "I mean you no harm."

"Oh?" The somewhat spindly seeker scoffed almost hysterically, "Then what are you doing here?!"

Orion carefully indicated the terminal behind him, the Project Iacon files still up and running defragmentations on one screen and his latest decryption algorithm on another, along with Terabyte's declaring its completion of the last task she had set it to the rotation before. "Research. For Lord Megatron."

"I-Is this some kind of _joke_?" Starscream, for that was who the mech was, exclaimed, still twitching his servos as he held the missiles locked on his frame.

"I do not understand." The archivist said slowly, frowning at the seeker. It would seem he needed to speak with Megatron further regarding his SIC. Because Starscream was very much not terminated. "And why did you call me Optimus Prime?"

There was that name again. Terabyte and Megatron had told him that it was the evil Autobots' code name for him, but it made no sense for them to call him a Prime.

"Eh…" The seeker lowered his missiles, now looking genuinely befuddled. "Why _wouldn't_ I?"

"Because my name is Orion Pax." He replied matter of factly, giving a self-depreciative shrug and smile, "I am far from being a Prime."

Starscream spluttered for a handful of astroseconds before his wings flicked and he said, "You… reminded me of someone I once knew. That's all."

"You are Starscream." Orion stated, unable to keep the tinge of suspicion that his brother had been keeping information from him, in more than just this matter.

Outside the lab, voices and pede-falls passed by rapidly, saying something about an intruder, though their voices were too muffled by the walls for him to be certain.

"Yes?"

"Lord Megatron told me you had been terminated."

The smaller mech chuckled darkly, shifting to a more relaxed posture, subspacing his weapons properly now. "Lord _Megatron_ says a great many things, only _some_ of which are true."

"You do not suggest that our leader would speak… falsehoods?" He verified, wishing in his spark that these doubts and suspicions would leave him and he would be able to trust his brother and closest friend fully, as he had before.

Starscream burst out laughing raucously at the question, ending in a cackle as the mech pressed his servos together, "You truly _are_ being kept in the dark, aren't you?"

"You speak in many riddles, Starscream." Pax rumbled, growing tired of every bot giving evasive answers and cryptic statements that brought more questions than they answered. He bent down slightly to be closer to the seeker's height. "Please, tell me what it is you know."

He almost thought the gray mech's engine purred faintly as the mech not-so-subtly urged, "And in return?"

Just then their conversation – and Orion's hopes of obtaining the knowledge he needed – were interrupted by the doors flinging open to reveal three identical Vehicons aiming weapons at them. Starscream squeaked in surprise and leapt behind the archivist as the team of Vehicons shouted, "Starscream! Surrender!"

"Hold your fire!" Orion ordered on instinct, stepping into a more defensive stance, holding up his hands as though that would stay their laser blasts should they ignore him as in his previous attempts to maintain order.

Before the Vehicons could respond one way or the other though, Starscream leapt over his helm and transformed into a jet, shooting off down the halls over all of their helms. The Vehicon leader glared at the scarlet and cobalt archivist accusingly, growling, "Remain in the lab."

"But I-"

"Lord Megatron's orders." The Vehicon snapped impatiently, slamming the door shut, effectively closing any further protests the mech might have had as well.

 **Next Rotation.**

The navy femme sat up groggily, rubbing at her scarlet optics wearily and looking around her charred quarters, putting a few of the things she wanted to keep into her subspace compartment, including some old photos. They were a bit burned at the edges from Airachnid's explosion a bit over an orn ago.

She smiled a sad, fond smile at the image in her hands. Her, Shadowlight, Darkshine, and Thunderblast were laughing with empty buckets, all four of them splattered with confectionary-grade liquid nitrogen, and Nightracer in the middle, just soaked in it, from helm to toe, licking her servos. They were a great team.

Terabyte slid a couple of other things into her subspace from her display case and walls. For some reason, she had a feeling they would be leaving here soon. After all, it had been four months. A rescue operation had to be under way by now.

The two-wheeler watched her hands shake as she tried to pour herself a cube of Energon, spilling more on the counters than into the cube. When she finally got the cube half-way filled, she gave up with a sigh and started cleaning up the mess. She downed the cube quickly, trying not to think about what was happening to her.

A message pinged in her helm, and the femme checked her comms. Lord Megatron himself. He wanted to see her in the throne room immediately for a mission. Terabyte flared out her armor and stalked out of her quarters, making her way to the throne room as quickly as she could. She ignored the usual barrage of insults and snide remarks from various crewmechs as she passed them by.

She would have transformed, but her t-cog ached, along with the rest of all of her.

Walking into the throne room, she bowed before her master, the slave code still growing, and becoming almost too strong to fight. Her optics shone like burning embers of hatred. "You summoned, my lord?"

The silver warlord wasted no time, getting straight to the point. "Your traitorous mech-friend has seen fit to attempt to rescue you. Skyquake should be onboard the Nemesis in a breem or so."

She blinked her optics at the warlord, but didn't speak. Her spark was constricted in its chamber, an aching ball of tension in her chest. She had an idea of what Megatron was going to make her do, and it terrified her.

Megatron grinned, sending a shiver down her struts. His deep voice held almost a purr of cruel anticipation. "I want you to kill him."

The little femme's engine hitched painfully, her optics narrowing to prevent them from going wide and showing her horror. Afraid of making the mech add anything more awful to his orders, Terabyte merely bowed deeply and turned to leave.

She'd almost made it all the way out when her master's silky bass rang through the room, forcing her to stop in her tracks. "Oh, and Terabyte, do give it your best effort. You won't hold back."

Before her spark or processor could gather themselves enough to respond, the slave codes had her bowing again, saying, "Yes, Lord Megatron."

The femme rushed out of the throne room, leaning back on the doors as soon as they closed, her vents sucking in air as fast as they could. Her spark pulsed sporadically, as though it was afraid it would break itself if it beat any stronger than that.

Perhaps that would have been better than what she was being forced to do.

She walked through the halls of the ship, with no real purpose or goal except to get away from the 'Lord Protector'. The red of her biolights bathed the halls around her in an eerie glow of the hatred she'd associated the color with. She was going to kill Skyquake, and she had no choice. She wouldn't be able to do anything to stop it.

Her helm throbbed at even the thought of defying Megatron's orders, and her spark roiled at the thought of obeying them.

Floating like a ghost through the cold, dark halls of the Nemesis, Terabyte had no idea where she was going, and she gave direction no thought. Yet when her pedes came to a stop, she found herself in a familiar hallway, in front of an even more familiar door. Her hand slotted into place perfectly into the same spot on the door where she'd worn a handprint into its surface over the vorns.

Terabyte bit her lip-plates, grateful as ever for the coverage of her mask.

She rerouted the coolant flow from her optics just as red lights started flashing and the sirens began blaring. She bowed her helm, whispering, "So it begins."

She turned around, charging her cannon and extending her dagger slowly. A crunch sounded in the hallway beneath her, followed by a thud that shook the floor.

Skyquake.

 **Meanwhile**

"Orion!" Megatron greeted him fondly, stepping into the lab and glancing at the terminals to judge his younger brother's progress. He hid a flash of displeasure when he saw that very little had been done since his last visit. Starscream's arrival on board put all of this at risk.

The Matrix's retreat from his brother's consciousness would not likely happen ever again, and it was even less likely to be a permanent situation. It was an opportunity that he could not allow to slip from his grasp, and that fool of a SIC could have ruined everything.

"I apologize for the recent commotion," The silver warlord told Orion, his statement and spark behind the words genuine enough.

He had never thought that his brother would ever stand by his side again as he had for the past four and a half Earth months. It had been decavorns since they had been on the same side of a battle, and for the briefest of periods, it had put a warm glow of undeniable happiness in his spark that reminded him that he actually still had one.

Not that that changed anything. He would still cyberform the Earth and from there continue his quest for galactic domination.

Trust Starscream to sabotage his plans, intentionally or not.

"You were not harmed in any way, were you?"

"No, Lord Megatron. But," Orion Pax answered, his soft baritone more solemn than usual, bringing suspicions to rise in the warlord. "Why did you tell me Starscream was dead?"

Megatron growled from his engine, purple optics and biolights flaring with displeasure. Perhaps too harshly than strictly necessary, he snapped, "Because he is dead to our cause!"

Forcing the anger with which he was well acquainted from his voice, the silver mech made his tone soften as he went on gravely, "Starscream was my most trusted lieutenant." He clenched his fist around the air, picturing said lieutenant's whimpering neck in his grasp, "Until he turned traitor and joined the Autobots!"

He altered his tone to sound hurt, " _Never_ have I witnessed such a _profound_ act of deceit." With that, Megatron sighed heavily, "He did not do or say anything troubling to you?"

The younger pre-Prime archivist hesitated before firmly answering, "No."

His violet optics narrowed a fraction, but he smiled at his long lost friend, "Good." Crossing his arms behind his back so that he could clench his claws into fists, shrugging lightly, "Perhaps it would be best to forget the entire incident and return to your project."

"As you wish, my lord."

The silver warlord had a sudden thought and turned back to face Orion before leaving, knowing the young mech would be getting his spark in a knot over his other… project. "And Orion? Terabyte won't be joining you, perhaps for a rotation or more. But you needn't concern yourself, she is merely taking some… time off with friends."

 **Elsewhere aboard the Nemesis**

Even a floor away, she could hear his roar, "WHERE IS SHE?!"

The femme shuttered her optics briefly and started running towards the nearest lift as fast as she could. She didn't bother calling the lift, just blew a hole in the door and swung down to the next level, landing in a battle-ready crouch. The burn in the back of her helm grew exponentially when she didn't lunge immediately.

"S-Sky?" Terabyte called, her voice pleading as the pain got to the point where she could barely keep her vents cycling, much less think clearly. Her frame slid down into preparation to attack with ease of vorns of practice.

"Tera?" Skyquake asked, turning around and taking in her stance with a quick sweep of his perfect optics. She took in the sound of his voice, the way he stood, his face-plates, trying to ingrain everything about him into her mind.

He noticed that as well and looked at her in confused worry. He shifted his plating so that he was smaller and more like his usual self, rather than the angry war-mech willing to do anything to get his best friend back. "Terabyte, what's wrong? I'm here to get you and the Prime out of here."

"I-If you love me, Sky, run." Her voice shook, and in spite of her best efforts, coolant was spilling over her cheeks and sliding down the edges of her raised battle mask. Her helm felt like Soundwave was still in there, tearing her apart from the inside out. "Run. Leave the Nemesis. Just take Orion and go!"

"Terabyte…" His soft tone was quickly gaining a determined edge, "You know I won't do that."

She choked back a cry as he stepped closer, close enough for his calm, strong EM field to brush against hers. The femme snapped her field in, pressing it against her frame even tighter than she was holding her trembling armor. The closer he got to her, the more her helm ached as she fought the slave codes with every fibre of her being.

" _Please_! Skyquake-!" Her cannon-arm rose to be level with his spark, her dagger pulling back, ready to strike the final blow. She felt her frame bend down to a pre-leap crouch, a threatening growl rumbling up from her engine against her will. "I _don't_ want to hurt you-"

Skyquake touched her shoulder gently, cupping her helm in his huge hand. "I know you don't. And you won't, because you can beat this. Megatron does not control you."

"YES HE DOES!" She shrieked at him, and the next thing she knew, Skyquake was on his back with his life-En dripping from his wing and her blade.

Her spark seemed to turn to ice, stopping still as she stood quivering in shock as he stood up with no more than a mostly hidden wince and a surprised flick of his injured wing. She gave a convulsive shudder and lunged at him, her processor and vorns of training controlling her deadly grace as she attacked him, using every bit of knowledge she'd gained in the whole war. Each attack was measured, utilizing all the fatal skill she'd never allowed herself to use before.

Because it made her a monster. She had the potential to be every bit as evil as she had once thought the Autobots were. Coolant continued to streak down her face, and she was hurting Skyquake, just like she'd been ordered to. Without restraint. She flowed through her motions in a blur in which she could barely process her own motions.

He wasn't fighting back. He was hardly even blocking, or dodging her cannon shots.

Her tactical and logical processors were spinning in overdrive with her battle processors. In her mind, the calculations were complete, and unless something changed, he'd be dead in less than a breem.

She swallowed a sob as she knocked him to his back again and pinned him to the floor by her dagger through his wing. Her diamond-shaped knee dug into his chest and she held her cannon to his face. Her coolant supply ran dry and she glared at him with dry optics and tear-stained face.

"Fight! Scrap, Skyquake, stop me! FIGHT BACK!" She twisted her dagger, knowing just how much it would hurt, hoping to make him angry, make him keep her from killing him like her coding was urging her to.

"No." He replied simply, brushing her hand that was plunging the blade into his wing, "Stop fighting, Terabyte."

"I can't! If you don't stop me, I'll kill you. I don't have a choice." Terabyte begged him, unwilling releasing her firm grip on her EM field, letting the massive green Pit-fighter feel everything.

Her terror, her hate for Megatron, her pain, and the most prominent emotion, which was her hate for herself for doing this to him. She'd rather die than see him hurt, much less hurt him herself, but she couldn't make herself stop. She wasn't in control of herself. For the first time in her life, she had absolutely zero control of her frame, and she was terrified.

Skyquake smiled at her. She had just beat him to the ground and done everything she knew how to hurt him in every way she possible could, and he actually smiled at her. "Terabyte, if you've taught me anything since I met you, it's that you always have a choice to take a life or to save it. You _always_ have a choice."

She stared at him, searching those ruby optics that showed his spark. Those optics that never lied, even when his words did. Her shoulder sagged and he gently pulled her dagger from his wing, standing up and setting her on her pedes. The smile never left his face, and his expression lilted into an unspoken 'told you so'.

"Are you alright?" He asked tenderly, constantly watching their surroundings in search of trouble. The big green jet asked her that like she was the one that had been sliced, stabbed, and blasted relentlessly.

Nevertheless, she laughed coldly, "No… Skyquake, you need to leave me here-"

"They're hurting you." He objected, radiating anger, "Did you think I hadn't noticed? You don't weigh anything, and you move like you've been through the Pits."

Terabyte averted her gaze, her jaw set. "The lies are thick here. Orion Pax isn't ready to come home yet. The Matrix has receded with his memories of Prime-ship, and until he has them back, he won't come willingly yet."

"I won't leave without you."

Footsteps echoed through the halls, and a moment later a group of Vehicons walked around the corner. "The Autobot! Kill him!"

"Sorry." She whispered, retracting her dagger and pulling her fist back and punching him hard in the face. Loud enough for the Vehicons to hear, she sneered at Skyquake. "You're a traitor and a fool to think I would ever join the Autobots. Vehicons, stand down, the matter is under hand, and Lord Megatron wants this one alive for interrogation. Send for Knockout, tell him he is to meet the prisoner in the brig."

"Yes, ma'am!"

They all stomped off back the way they came. Skyquake cocked his helm at her, wonder in his optics and tone, "It never fails to amaze me how good you do that."

She quirked an optic ridge at him as she stuck his arms in a fully restrictive servo-to-elbow stasis cuff. "How good I do what?"

"Lie." He replied simply, looking forward into the hallways as she escorted him to the Nemesis' brig with her cannon held just behind his back, though her foreign coding fought against her every second of it. The big mech sighed, "Bots don't doubt you for even a moment, even when they don't trust you in the slightest."

Terabyte bit her lip hard, suddenly all too aware of the crimson glow from her own frame, powered by her spark. A symbol of when, memory wipe or not, she had willingly become everything she'd spent her whole short life fighting. A continually plaguing reminder of how she had failed everything she had believed in, of how easily she could step over that line between good and evil, of every mistake she'd ever made, summed up in a simple change of hue and paint job.

For the first time in a very, very long time, the spy was alone with Skyquake, and she was more appreciative than ever of her battle mask.

"Yes, well, as Arcee said, once a Decepticon, always a Decepticon."

Somehow she held the bitterness out of her voice. A sharp stab of guilt pierced her when it occurred to her that she hadn't been this stiff with him in vorns. Her walls were up and she felt strangely cold inside, but she stubbornly maintained a neutral tone, giving no sign of how she felt in her frame posture or field. The aches and exhaustion accumulated under Knockout's care were forgotten in favor of holding the slave codes within her at bay as they screamed for Skyquake's life-En.

"If the deception keeps you alive and well, I will gladly maintain it." Terabyte said crisply, flaring her armor just a little bit more and warily scanning the halls.

She could feel Skyquake's pained optics in her back as she marched in front of him. He had hidden the sum of what the Decepticon's and their entire cause was for five vorns. Five beautiful vorns, in which everything she'd known was an intricate lie to keep her loyal.

She'd killed for that lie.

And now he was going to judge her for saving his life? She was a spy. Lying was her job, of course she was good at it.

Behind her, Skyquake's EM field flared out towards her in a subconscious grasp for her presence – he never could control his field, not like she could. It was strong as always, but riddled with doubt and remorse. Just by the feel of it, she could picture the look in his optics and the apologetic lilt of his still-leaking wings.

"I know all that, Terabyte. You're right, I lied to you for vorns, and the sparks you took in that time are my fault, my responsibil-." He clamped his mouth shut as a team of Vehicons passed them by.

"I would have done far worse if it weren't for you." Terabyte objected softly, not having meant to have said all of what she'd said out loud, nor truly even meant it. She laughed humorlessly, turning around to look him in the optics, her gaze fond in a fierce way, "I would have killed my best friend today if it weren't for you."

Not only would she have, but if she let her mental guard down for just a moment, just a brief moment to relieve the building agony in her helm, she still very likely might.

She opened a cell and motioned him into it, setting up the sound block around them, and sealing the cell behind them. For sake of the guard, the femme shoved Skyquake onto the chair and stood over him in an imposing manner.

Skyquake flicked a wing in grateful acknowledgement. "You're the best of us, you always have been. The point is, Terabyte, I don't deserve you. I've done horrible things, I grew up in the Pits and _enjoyed_ it. When the Pits ended, I joined the Decepticons, because I could keep living the gladiator life. We were Megatron's prize killers, and proud of it. We had honor, but that was it."

"I taught you to fight, but you taught me to live for more than the next battle." The green jet smiled with the one side of his face that the guard couldn't see, his gravelly voice low and rough with emotion. "You're the best of us, and all I've ever wanted was to keep you that way. To keep you happy and beautiful and alive and all the things I'd never thought I could be."

All for the show, Terabyte extended her dagger and began circling the mech, sliding the blade over his neck plating, in all reality, just toying with it. Soundwave's coding was both enraged and slightly abated by her actions, and it took far more effort than she cared to acknowledge to keep the dagger steady.

Still somewhat displeased with him, the femme's engine rumbled, somewhere between an angry growl and a touched purr. Her tone was still harsh though, "And all of this was brought up by a relatively minor, insignificant little lie that happened to keep you more or less intact after the beating I gave you and feel awful about."

He shook his helm faintly, his optics gleaming with something she was too exhausted in frame and processor to recognize, "I know Megatron, I know how he works, and I feared what he would do to you to punish me. And I know how easily he can break bots. What has he done to you?"

The question came out in a murderous growl, and she looked down at her pedes, then at their surroundings. At last she punched him in the face again and stormed over to the cell entrance, indicating for it to be opened. When the guard did so, she snarled, "The prisoner is unwilling to impart with the intel I need. Getting that intel will take time. Take the shift off, Crossfire, it seems I will be here awhile."

The larger Vehicon flier looked at her in surprise, but she knew this mech. He was very quick to trust and had always seen her as a friend to Vehicons. One of the few bots on this ship that didn't throw insults with the rest. Crossfire nodded respectfully, his visor flashing briefly at the idea of an entire shift off.

"Sure thing, Lieutenant Commander." Quietly – probably in the hopes of Soundwave not hearing him -he added, "Thank you!"

Behind her dark mask, the femme smiled sadly. He'd lasted a long time for a Vehicon. Honestly, she was surprised to see that he was still around, not recycled for parts. Trying to convince a Vehicon to switch sides would be next to impossible. Not when their lives were already worth so little to Megatron.

She turned back to Skyquake, sitting down across from him, still not relaxing her stance. She was still trying to hide just how much of a toll her time here was taking on her, and besides that, Soundwave was still watching her every move. She tossed an idle glance around her. Why he hadn't informed Megatron of her failure to comply remained unknown to her, and frankly, frightening. "Did you come to rescue us alone?"

His engine rumbled, "Cliffjumper was supposed to join. The others detained him."

Terabyte nodded minutely, not at all surprised by that. She stifled a sigh and dismissed another recharge activation warning from her HUD, forcibly keeping her biolights and optics their usual brightness. "You're going to have to stay here for a while. Maybe an orn, maybe a quartex, I don't know. When Orion is ready, the three of us will break out."

"And until then? You were ordered to kill me."

"I will… give Soundwave a logical reason to keep you alive." She said tentatively, her weary processors already attempting to tackle the dilemma as once again she resisted the implanted urge to blow his helm right off his shoulders.

Skyquake glared at her, knowing her well enough to know that she had no real plan. He let it slide for the time being, instead watching her with disapproval in his optics. "You didn't answer the question. What has he done to you?"

The little femme shifted awkwardly, knowing she couldn't come up with an evasive answer or a distraction that would satisfy the mech. She stayed silent, the majority of her computing power consumed with worrying over what Soundwave had in store for her, and calculating how soon she'd be able to go back to her berth.

"Terabyte." Her friend rumbled in a warning tone, jerking her from her recharge-oriented thoughts for a klick, "You weren't fighting at your best, and you haven't stopped looking over your shoulder since I've been on board."

"Bots aren't exactly happy to see me back." She mumbled, her optic shutters feeling so, so heavy. Her scarlet optics dimmed against her will.

Skyquake's EM field was tight with concern for her and held just about as much frustration as concern. He slammed his fist into the table, startling the dozing femme awake again as her systems attempted to force her into recharge.

"What are they doing to you?!" He roared at her.

His loud voice and slamming fist registered wrong in her worn out state, and Terabyte bolted out of her seat, backing away from him with a faint, frightened whimper. Skyquake… shouldn't be yelling at her. What had she done to make him mad?

"I-I need t-to go…" She stuttered, sounding as confused as she felt. She needed to find Orion and somehow try to reignite the Matrix within him. Knockout had succeeded in lessening the pain in her systems during the Shifting, but it would seem his solution – whatever it was – had some adverse effects long-term…

She kept backing away from the large, army green jet, not really seeing the worry, remorse, and fear in his own optics as he watched her trembling retreat, listening to the frightened whine of her engine. Terabyte shook her helm minutely, "I-I need to go… I-I'll come back, l-later…"


	5. Home Bound

**The Honor in Duty**

 **Chapter 5**

 **Home Bound**

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 **Disclaimer: I do not own the Transformers, or the television series Transformers: Prime.**

 **A hand of applause to enmused, my beta! Thanks to everyone who reads this, I'm pretty sure you guys are the awesomest thing ever. So keep reading, fav'ing, following, reviewing, and loving this story as Terabyte's story continues to unwind!**

 **Review Responses: Okay, before I do this, I just want to say that this section right here is my favorite part of posting, because I don't know about you guys, but seeing each review and getting to thank you individually for it is just plain awesome.**

 _ **To Cashagon:** **For sake of not giving out spoilers for this chapter, I'm not going to repeat what you asked in your last review, but thanks a million for that, as it sort of cemented in my mind whether or not that was gonna happen. Cause if I can throw in a scene or two that I was not only already considering, but also basically asked to write? I am definitely doing so!**  
_

 _ **To Allspark**_ _ **Princess : So, with school starting up for me, this was basically as soon as possible, even though its late... As recompense, I offer you a 7k+ word-long chapter! Personally, I don't much care for killing off my beloved characters unless the plot and or muses require it (*sniff, sniff, I'm so sorry, Blitzwing*), so it's not too big of a spoiler to say everyone gets out alive. Unfortunately, I can't say that this is the last rough patch in their lives, or that this rough patch is even over yet, but I'm going to shut up before I give out all of the spoilers. *grins sheepishly at annoyed muses***_

 _ **To**_ _ **redlinevcr : Nice to here from you! Hope you're enjoying, and have fun tackling this extra long one!**_

 _ **To**_ _ **hockeynut178 : Hockeynut! Great to see you again! (Hear you? Read you? eh, whatever... Befuddling English language...) So glad to know that you found the sequel! And yes, I was quite unashamedly pleased with how the last chapter turned out. So feelsy, but not excessively so as to put anyone off. I try to be very picky about my writings, though of course in the end I must say that the muses are rather difficult to deny. Yes! I actually have watched some of the 2015 RID cartoon, and while I'm not exactly up to date in it, I've enjoyed what I have seen of it. Quite cute, great for cheering me up on a rainy day. Honestly, I'm not sure if there's a show in the Transformers universe that I haven't at least heard of, but I'm always open to suggestions!**_

* * *

 _The femme sipped at her Energon, smiling faintly under her mask as she detected a dash of silver in it. A very low-grade silver, but silver nonetheless._

 _"Thank you, Meister." She cocked her helm slightly. "Lugnut told you I generally have my fuel with silver, I assume?"_

 _The black and red grounder shrugged noncommittally, flashing her a fanged grin she'd come to recognize as his default expression. She took another small sip of the cube._

 _"So, that's the base, then." Meister grunted, sounding duly unimpressed, "This giant mushroom's about as attractive inside as it is out."_

 _She huffed in amusement, but she still couldn't quite manage a laugh. This mech still had something about him that unnerved her. "Yes, well, I might have designed the Decepticon central command citadel with at least a small amount of aesthetic."_

 _"Architect probably envisioned the design to be nicer than it turned out."_

 _She snorted, her tone dry and minutely annoyed. She truly despised everything about Kolkular. "Hate to see what the mech looks like if he thought the Lord Protector reigning from a giant flaming mushroom would be pretty."_

 _The new recruit burst out laughing, drawing odd glances from nearby bots. Everyone in Kolkular had decided that the Soundwave's right-hand femme was about as hilarious as a brick wall, so it must have surprised them to hear someone amused by her._

 _In spite of herself, the femme replayed her sentence in her helm, snickering quietly at herself. That is, until she realized what she was doing, at which point she flared out her armor a fraction further and cleared her vents harshly._

 _"In any case, welcome to Kolkular." The two-wheeler stood up and downed the last of her Energon, "If you require assistance in any way, feel free to contact me. My personal comm. frequency is on record."_

 _Meister scowled at the femme's abrupt exit, gulping down his Energon in a single swig and pitching his cube in the recycler. The irony of his life never ceased to amaze him. Frankly, it was beginning to get rather depressing. Here he was, on a spec ops assignment in Kolkular, and who is the first bot he meets other than the reason his best friend was terminated._

 _He supposed he ought to just be grateful that her big oaf of a sparkmate - or whatever he was to her - wasn't around, because he'd already slipped up once in his first orn in. If his killer had been here too, he was pretty sure he'd've lost his cool and tried to slaughter the mech._

 _What was worse, avoiding the femme wasn't really an option for him, because she was a higher-up and had already opened herself up as his ticket to success. Scrap, fate was cruel, if nothing else._

 _First Major Terabyte of the Communications and Intelligence Division. A reputable warrior, and an even more reputable hacker, the Sounder's right-hand bot. Just the kind of bot he needed to pull this off. Terabyte, aka, the reason Prowl was murdered, now also his friend behind enemy lines._

 _"Well," Meister ran a hand over his visored faceplate, hissing too quietly for anybot to hear, "That's just... prime."_

 **Previously on The Honor in Duty...**

 **"My name is Orion Pax... I am** **far** **from being a Prime." ... "You truly** _ **are**_ **being kept in the dark, aren't you?"**

 **"Your traitorous mech-friend has seen fit to attempt to rescue you..." His deep voice held almost a purr of cruel anticipation. "I want you to kill him." ... "Yes, Lord Megatron."**

 **"Terabyte... Megatron does not control you." ... "YES HE DOES!"**

 **"What are they doing to you?!" ... "I-I need t-to go..."**

Terabyte backed out of the cell, her scared optics not leaving Skyquake's. Remorse shone unseen in his ruby optics, and he jumped out of his seat, rushing forward to stop her from leaving, but the rapid motion just made her bolt. She slammed the force field back into place as soon as she was over the line. The green jet didn't stop fast enough and crashed into the field, calling her name, but she was too scared and confused at that point to process it.

Her pedefalls echoed loudly in the empty halls of the Nemesis as she ran from a mech who couldn't even follow her. Her vents came quick and labored, but she didn't slow down. Soundwave was trying to get a hold of her through her comms., but she didn't care. Her helm ached, but compared to the pain in her spark, it was nothing.

She transformed, it was against ship regulations if she thought about it, revving her engine and speeding off to the Nemesis' medical ward. Gun-fire could be heard on a different floor of the ship. She paid it no heed, her only thoughts being of getting to the med-bay.

"KO?" The little femme called as she reached her destination, surprising even herself. It seemed so impossibly unlikely that she should have grown to almost trust this medic, a mech who's very being annoyed her. A mech who had just spent the past four months putting her through a living Pit. Nevertheless, she searched for him, stumbling through the med-bay. "Knockout?"

"If you _have_ time off, go recharge, Terabyte." A voice replied with an amused lilt, coming from somewhere at the back of the ward, "Honestly, femme, if I didn't know better, I'd think you actually _like_ our sessions."

She scoffed weakly, tripping towards the sound of his voice, all the while still attempting to keep her armor flared. Every now and then, her mask and finials would spasm painfully. "I think something may be wrong with me."

"Oh, like the slave codes in your processor, the fact that they just made you kill your favorite green oaf, and the unorthodox experimentation I've been performing on you?" The red medic came out of the storage closet he had been organizing. He gave her one brief look-over and the smirk on his faceplate melted. "On second thought, perhaps I ought to take a look. Breakdown!"

The cobalt ex-Wrecker stomped into the room, looking around with his yellow optic, the gray patch covering the socket where MECH had taken his other one. The red-faced mech sounded resigned, "Yeah? Need another buffing?"

"Of course." Knockout flashed him a grin, winking at Terabyte, "Not now though. We have a patient."

"The usual one?" Breakdown raised his chin to her in a show of respectful acknowledgement. "You aren't dead. Considering who you just took down, I'm impressed."

"I didn't kill him." Terabyte mumbled, sitting down on the medical berth the doctor gestured her to, wincing behind her mask as the words sent a spike of pain through her helm.

The red medic grimaced, casting a knowing glance towards his work partner, mouthing the word 'denial'. He ran a couple of scans over her with several different devices, then scowled at the readings that came back to him.

"Breakdown, get me another round of sedatives." Knockout double-checked his scanners, growling. "Her systems are rejecting the nanites I gave her for the Shifting pains. Get the tools for a full purge too."

"I didn't kill him." She repeated insistently, knowing even as she did so that the mech wouldn't believe her. What she'd done shouldn't have been possible with the codes in her helm. Sky should have been dead. "I put him in the brig."

"Whatever you say." The medic told her absently, hooking her up to about a dozen different wires of varying colors and lengths. "It would seem our next session has come ahead of schedule."

 **Meanwhile: Hijacked Decepticon Space Bridge**

"What do you mean Skyquake's gone to rescue them?!"

" **He's gonna get himself killed!"**

"We don't have the mech-power to lose anyone else!"

The horned mech cringed under the berating of the other Autobots. Nevertheless, he grinned up at them, crossing his arms mutinously. "Aww, c'mon guys, have a little faith. Jetbrain can take care of himself. 'Sides, if you'd let me go with him, 'Cee could've come back from Cybertron to a full house."

"If we'd have let you go with him you'd be just as dead as he is!"

Cliffjumper stared at Ratchet for a moment, wondering at the underlying stress and pain in his voice. The red warrior shook his helm, dropping his grin and glaring at them all, "We have no way of knowing that. But I can guarantee that they all will be dead if we don't do something to get them back."

/I must agree with Ratchet,/ Jetfire said thoughtfully over the comms., /Running in blind is unlikely to help./

The mech's engine growled, "At least it would be something! If it were any of us, Optimus would have done something by now! He would have rescued them, and he wouldn't have sat around on his aft for four months, or blown a strut trying to keep the Fowl happy." Cliffjumper gestured around at them, each and every one showing clear signs of depression, even after just conquering the Decepticons' _space bridge_. " _This_? This is not what the Boss Bot would've done if it were any one of us in Megatron's claws."

"Yeah, well he ain't exactly here now is he?" Bulkhead intoned harshly, stepping towards him menacingly, shoving him back a couple steps with his wrecking ball, "And who made you the boss? This whole war is just a game to you anyway, what do you care-"

At that, what was left of Cliffjumper's restraint shattered and he shoved the large Wrecker back, hard enough that the mech stumbled over one of the terminated Vehicons, falling hard enough on the cavern floor that it cracked under his weight.

"Now is neither the time nor place for this." Ratchet attempted to intercede, stepping towards them as though to help the Wrecker to his feet.

"Shut up, Ratchet." The warrior's engine rumbled in a deep anger that burned in his sky blue optics, the mech's normally jovial expression turning frighteningly hard. The dim, eerie light of the active space bridge cast his stone cold glare in a menacing light. Bumblebee was standing between them, looking ready to physically restrain him, but Cliffjumper made no attempt to further attack the green Wrecker, merely standing over him with rage in his voice.

"You think this is all a game to me?" He snarled, clenching his fists, "That just because I keep grinning like an idiot when we lose the people we care about; you think that means I don't feel it just the same as anybot else? Well, fine! Let's say it's all a game to me. At least I haven't given up! If this is a game, we're losing, and the bots that don't care are the ones that gave up hope."

The dark, damp cavern seemed even bigger and darker than ever before, the faint sounds of dripping water crashing through the heavy atmosphere like cannon blasts.

"So, fine, why don't you sit there and ask me why I should care." Cliffjumper looked down on the Wrecker, then turned to everyone else, his gaze fierce, "But while you're sitting on your aft on the floor, I'm not going to stop playing this _game_ until I can keep all my _players_ out of harm's way. Because y'know the thing about games? Giving up is worse than losing."

The five of them stood in tense silence for nearly a breem – about ten Earth minutes – when Raf commed in anxiously, /Uh, guys? Has anyone seen Miko?/

 **Meanwhile: Nemesis Brig**

Skyquake sighed heavily, slamming his fist into the wall beside him, feeling a small amount of satisfaction as the thick metal crumpled under his knuckles. He ran a hand over his faceplate and slumped down to the floor, leaning against the wall.

She never used to be afraid of him, not even when he got mad.

In the time he'd been gone, he hadn't been there to protect her, and while she may not have realized it, she had learned to fear bots and the pain that Decepticons were so good at inflicting. It hurt him to think of just how much his absence had harmed her. He hadn't thought of that when he'd taken the job. He hadn't considered that he was leaving a femme that shouldn't have even have her third youngling frame yet behind in the middle of a war, in the faction that thought the gladiatorial pits were fun.

Where had his duty been then?

The green jet's thoughts ground to a halt as he suddenly became aware of a little thud on the inside of his abdomen. His ruby optics widened rapidly. The human!

"Miko? You alright in there?" He flung his cracked cockpit open and scooped the limp fleshling from the seat that had come with his Earth vehicular form with as much care as he could manage. The child didn't move, but he could see her little chest rising and falling in deep intakes.

"Oh, sweet Cybertron…" Skyquake laid out the small human girl on his thigh, tentatively nudging the immobile fleshling with the back of a servo. His low, gravelly voice sounded far too loud in the empty cell, "Did… did I break her? Unicron, would it have hurt to spawn a sturdier species on your corpse?"

After a couple of long, somewhat panicked breems, the pink-haired Asian girl shifted and moaned, sitting up slowly.

He muttered a quick thanks to the Allspark, supporting the girl with a servo at her back. "Miko!"

She groaned again, rubbing her helm and blinking a few times. "Yeah… Gross. I think I left my lunch in there."

"So I noticed." Skyquake growled in a grudgingly forgiving manner, glancing at his cockpit and watching a brownish green muck roll down the glass, raising an optic ridge at the youngling. "It does not exactly feel pleasant."

"Sorry?" Miko grinned up at him, then stretched and stood up. "So, what now, 'Quake? We bust outta here, kick some cans, and get our guys home?"

He flicked a wing, not quite catching the wince that followed the action. The young girl tilted her helm at him, a worried expression touching her fleshy faceplates as she scrambled up to stand on his chest and look him in the optics. "You're hurt… bad. Didn't you fight back?"

She seemed to recognize the look in his optics and she flopped back down cross-legged in his lap. "Megs sent _her_ didn't he?" The colorful human frowned, lost in her thoughts for a couple of klicks until at last she asked softly, "'Quake? Why is she listening to them? Why isn't she fighting them?"

"Terabyte is fighting a battle far beyond physical resistance, Miko." Skyquake stroked the fleshling's pink and black 'hair'. It didn't occur to him that by their planet's standards, she was almost an adult, but neither did the girl complain. "Cybertronian 'brains' don't work like yours; they can be hacked and altered and even rewritten if one has the skill."

"And you think Soundwave is _making_ her obey them? From her… her programming?" Miko exclaimed, her hazel optics wide with horror. "Like, like malware? In her _brain_?!"

The jet nodded gravely, considering the fleshling, seizing her up and adding the finishing touches to his plan. The two of them, bot and human, sat in a contemplative silence for nearly a groon. Finally he drew a rather beat-up med-kit from his subspace, opening it up and setting to work on some of the repairs he knew how to and could reach.

Miko watched him work for a while, asking questions every now and then, but about three breems into it, she was climbing over his frame like a jungle gym, helping repair the spots he couldn't reach, and at his stipulation, taking extreme caution to avoid any contact with his life-En.

While the two of them worked to get him back into full functionality – or as near it as possible, given how badly Terabyte had scrapped him before he managed to stop her – Skyquake laid out the details of his plan. So far, so good. As long as everything continued to go according to plan, they'd all be home in no time.

 **Next Joor. (Approx. four hours later) Orion's Lab**

Terabyte sat down at her terminal beside her Prime. She glanced over at him as he did his work, noting how he would glance over at her periodically as well. It made for a rather awkward work environment.

She cleared her vents softly, mustering the courage to say, "Orion Pax, I… apologize for my treatment of you earlier. It was uncalled for."

"You clearly have much weighing on your spark." The mech replied, regarding her curiously. "Soundwave wishes to see you in his office."

The little femme sighed heavily. She'd known it was coming. Honestly she was surprised that she hadn't been summoned as soon as she was discharged from med-bay. Was she fully healthy, or really even fit to be discharged? No, but it wasn't as though the medic had much of a say in the matter.

"I suppose I ought to go see him then."

"You make it sound like you would rather not?"

She laughed, not catching herself before she teased, "Maybe we should just run away and join the Autobots."

He blinked at her, the humor of it lost on him, his expression contemplative. Terabyte realized her mistake and cleared her vents, rising from her seat and tugging on her right finial nervously. She smiled at the amnesiac Prime and bowed minutely, "I ought not keep my commanding officer waiting."

Klicks later, the navy and black femme stood before her formerly former commander, her posture stiff and untelling, her expression hidden by her mask. The purple head of CI's positioning was much the same. After merely watching her for a few moments, Soundwave displayed a security feed of Skyquake repairing himself in the brig.

Terabyte gave no reaction until she noticed the familiar overall-wearing, pink-haired teenage girl draped over his shoulder, repairing his wing. She bit back a gasp, her blood-colored optics widening fractionally. What was Miko doing with him? She could have killed the child!

"Skyquake may have sensitive intel about the Autobots that could be invaluable to our cause." She offered quietly, a stab of discomfort shooting through her processors like an ice pick.

The silent mech had an aura of scepticism so strong she could almost feel him raising an optic ridge behind his full face visor.

"I want you to kill him." Soundwave played back the Lord Protector's words to her, challenging her to explain her failure, "You won't hold back."

She sneered at him behind her mask, "Apparently there was a flaw in your slave codes, Soundwave."

His visor flashed a crossed out circle; null, none, empty. She flicked a finial at the mech, her protoform shrinking beneath her flared armor. Of all bots, she was well aware of that. She'd spent joors of the night just attempting to hack through, to make the accursed coding leave her in freedom.

"I will interrogate him. He knows the location of the Autobot base, and so does the child." The spy said confidently, bringing up the image of jet and girl in the brig in her mind. "I will get the answers from them, just give me an orn."

"Remain in the lab." A Vehicon's voice growled at her, through her commander, "Lord Megatron's orders."

She shook her helm faintly, desperation leading her to bow deeply, her spark pleading but her tone remaining just as neutral as ever, "My lord, I will interrogate them by whatever means necessary, but I request an orn to complete the task."

The gladiator glared at her through his visor, crossing his arms over his chest firmly. She bowed again, feeling the heat of the mech's anger flowing off of him in waves, making his decision all the more final. The navy and black two-wheeler repressed a shudder as she left, slave code burning like embers in the back of her helm.

Terabyte slipped back into the lab, sitting down at her terminal and once again looking over the work Orion had gotten done in her absence. It was surprisingly little. She quirked an optic ridge and looked over the records that the Lord Protector had commanded her to take of the archivists' activities and the small femme smiled behind her mask at what she saw.

The mech had hacked through Soundwave's barriers and uncovered the original files on Optimus Prime. No doubt it didn't escape the mech that the image on file was of himself.

She closed it down again before the mech could see that she had been monitoring him, smiling over at the amnesiac Prime.

"You have made headway, Orion Pax." She commented, not quite able to keep the excitement from shining in her weary optics.

He was so close, the Matrix was beginning to stir in him, but the Autobots couldn't afford to wait for him to become a Prime all over again. Knowing who he was, and actually being who he was were two very different things, and she feared that without some sort of a jump-start to the Matrix, it would still take vorns for him to be Optimus Prime again.

In all honesty, he was nowhere near being a Prime yet. But he was beginning to see that he was not a Decepticon, and until Ratchet and Jetfire could figure out a way to fix the Matrix, she was going to settle for getting back on the right side of the War. She'd been deceived for far too long, and while she defended her own deceptions when Skyquake questioned her, no one wanted her to be honest more than she did herself.

She had lied and been lied to, used and been used for much too long already.

"Terabyte…" The red and blue Autobot asked slowly, his expression focused. "I do not believe you have been entirely-"

"Orion!" Megatron bellowed, announcing his presence as well as distracting his brother from whatever he'd been about to say to her, "Have you made progress with Project Iacon?"

The mech glanced to the side, an almost painfully obvious hesitation as he replied, "It seems I am a bit rustier than I thought."

The silver warlord made no effort to hide his displeasure, though it was significantly less wrathful than Terabyte had expected. Megatron's engine growled lightly, "Might that have something to do with the nature of your… _after-hours_ activities?"

He stepped up to her terminal and, looming over her in a way that made the femme involuntarily cringe deeper into her seat, he drew up the exact same records she'd been looking at mere moments ago. "Did I fail to mention that we will be tracking your activities?"

"Why does history portray me as siding with the Autobot aggressors?" Orion Pax demanded, his voice somehow both pleading and commanding simultaneously, "And why did Starscream also call me a Prime? Megatron, brother, I must know! Who am I?"

Terabyte half expected the warlord to rip his spark out right then and there, but instead his violet optics merely turned as stone cold as his voice, "You are my clerk. Now get back to work and decode that database."

Beside the Lord Protector, Terabyte sat still in her chair, betraying no emotion in her field, posture or expression, though her spark was swirling with confusion. Orion had shattered the moment in Megatron's mind, she could hear the change in his voice, see the way the warlord altered how he held himself.

His little brother Orion Pax had ceased to be when the mech became Optimus Prime. He had thought for a brief time that this incident with Unicron had brought that naïve, trusting little brother back to him. And now as far as Megatron was concerned, the mech before him was neither one nor the other, no more than a quickly fading opportunity to be taken advantage of.

"No."

She blinked at the archivist, fear in her optics as he dared to stand straighter and flare out his armor in challenge. Even Megatron quirked a sweeping optic ridge in bemusement.

"I would rather erase my findings than make them available for your questionable use." Pax went on firmly, reaching over to his terminal and do just that.

The defiant action wiped the amused smirk from the warlord's expression and he scowled, then chuckled almost proudly. "Did you really think we wouldn't be tracking and documenting every iota of your invaluable research? You have done admirably, Terabyte."

Megatron laid a hand on her shoulder, pulling her out of chair and looking down at the clearly disgusted and terrified femme like she was his favorite pet. "You would make a worthy Decepticon if you had the spark for it."

"My apologies, Lord Megatron," She replied respectfully, her slave codes insuring her tone remained respectful, even though her words were anything but, "I think you meant the lack thereof. I may be manipulated, but I am no longer fooled. I know what you are."

"So do I." He sneered back at her, making his way towards the door, just as Soundwave walked in, "Which is more than you can say for yourself."

Soundwave waited patiently to gain his lord's attention, then displayed a stellar map with a flashing beacon on his visor-screen. The silver gladiator scowled at the news asking, "One of our sentries was activated on Cybertron?"

"You told me our planet was dead." Orion interrupted reproachfully, drawing yet another impatient glare from his sibling.

"That is beside the point! Guards!" He roared towards the door, then turned back to the small femme and the fuming archivist, his voice now lacking any form of generosity it may have once held, bringing back the Megatron she had come to know as he threatened darkly, "You will finish Project Iacon by the time I return, or I will _carve_ out your _spark_ before your very optics!"

She and Orion shared a glance and turned back to their respective terminals as the warlord stomped out of the lab in a rage, silently followed by Soundwave. As soon as they had left, three Vehicons stepped into the lab, leaving two outside, and held their blasters ready. Every time one or both of them moved, the guards would brandish their weapons in warning.

Terabyte commed her Prime over a private link, /Orion… I'm truly sorry to have lied to you. I will explain as soon as I can, but-/

/We must leave the Nemesis. The Autobots are in danger of Megatron's wrath./ Orion finished for her, leaving the terminal and nodding at her in understanding. He raised his hands in a motion of surrender as he turned to face the guards.

"No one told you to stop, Pax." The lead Vehicon, Trigger, sneered, stepping forward with a menacing swagger. He already knew that this version of the Prime couldn't fight back.

"I believe Megatron intends to use whatever he finds on Project Iacon to harm the Autobots." He explained, trying to reason with them, "Please, hear me, brothers… We can warn them."

They laughed at him, then when he took another step forward, opening his mouth as though to speak again, the lead guard back-handed him to his knees, where the three proceeded to kick and beat him as he could do no more than raise his hands in a futile attempt to block their blows.

"Stop!" Terabyte charged her mini fusion cannon and levelled it on them, growling as she tried to step between them and her Prime, only to be punched hard on the finial, knocking her free of her senses as she fell to her aft.

She should have been able to defend the Prime, but the tolls of Knockout's work were too much for her, and her systems were still running sluggishly as a result of the full system purge he'd done earlier that morning. The little spy's engine whined as she could do no more than sit dazed on her aft, receiving the same treatment as Pax as the other two guards from outside came in and joined in the senseless beating of the traitor and the Prime.

The femme bit back a shriek as one of the Vehicons picked her up by her audial finial and held her dangling in front of him, laughing brutishly. "Doesn't really pay to betray us, does it Flip-Sides?"

Her hands clasped around the Vehicon's wrist, Terabyte pulled herself up to relieve the pressure on her finial for just a moment before she vaguely registered Orion at last shouting, "Enough!"

Blaster fire rang in her audials as she acted on that cry, snapping her captor's wrist and kicking him to the ground, where she made a quick end to him with her dagger. Leaping around in a rather impressive back-flip, she plunged her blade through the neck of the last guard standing.

Terabyte wiped the life-En off her blade and retracted it, her tanks churning. Orion Pax was staring between the three Vehicons he'd just scrapped and his own blasters, a mix of awe and horror on his face.

"I-I am armed?"

She glanced at their five greying guards, feeling ill as they brought back memories of so many other battlefields she'd been a part of. She shuddered convulsively and held out a hand to help the mech to his pedes.

Orion didn't let go of her once he was standing though, and she didn't trust him to be able to stand on his own. The expression on his ordinarily so regal faceplates was unmistakeable. Optimus Prime may have been a war-hardened hero, but Orion Pax was just a clerk from Iacon. In his mind, this was probably the first time he'd taken a spark.

The two-wheeler held up the mech nearly twice her size as he trembled. She thought for a moment that he would purge, but at last he straightened and the two of them left the lab side by side. He let out a spark-heavy sigh. "I fear that was neither the first nor the last time a life will be taken by my hands."

Her engine hummed deeply in a remorse that echoed his own as she said solemnly, "May the Well shine bright this orn."

"How do we leave this ship? The Autobots must be warned."

She frowned at him minutely, "Why do you still trust me?"

"Because I believe you are worthy of it." He replied simply, glancing warily around the corner, then allowing her to lead on in his stead.

She led him towards the brig, but then stopped abruptly in her tracks and commed him a databurst with a map to the ground-bridge and coordinates for him to go to. "Trust me in this also. I have a mistake the must be set aright. Go, save the Autobots."

"It is not in my nature to abandon my friends in time of need." The archivist objected, grabbing her shoulder to keep her from darting off.

Terabyte lowered her mask and smiled at Orion Pax reassuringly for what could very likely be the last time, her scarlet optics pleading her leader to allow her to prove that she was worthy of the trust he'd vested in her, "Then go. They need you there, Orion."

He met her optics and released her, nodding in acknowledgement. "Be safe, young one."

She nodded, then snapped her mask up and transformed into her three-wheeled motorcycle alt, speeding down the halls towards the brig with all haste. She dodged several Vehicons in the halls, losing them around unexpected detours rather than fighting them, until at last she arrived at the brig. Flipping back up into her bi-pedal mode, Terabyte stumbled over the unconscious frame of Crossfire, the same mech she'd granted time off earlier.

The femme glanced down at the mech in confusion as she kept walking forward to open the cells, until she bumped into the solid wall of warm, green armor that she'd come to rescue.

"You seemed fond of that one, so he's just gonna have a helm-ache when he wakes up." Skyquake explained with a light shrug of his wing.

She blinked at him, looking over at the deactivated force field that he was supposed to have been imprisoned behind. Finally, she decided that she wasn't even going to ask how he managed to get out. "Where's Miko?"

Then she looked down at Skyquake's pedes and found the answer to her question clinging to his knee-plate by one hand and giving her a jaunty wave. "Hiya!"

"You do realize your knee is now painted with the image of a sparkly pink unicorn, right?" Terabyte asked drily as they headed back up towards the roof of the Nemesis.

She held up a hand as he was about to answer, hearing pedefalls down the next corridor. Biting down hard on her lip so as to hold back the screams that would come, the femme focused on the mental image of the average Vehicon grounder, willing herself to transform.

Fire coursed through her powerlines as her whole frame shifted and warped and bent in ways it was never meant to, and she had to deactivate her vocalizer to cut off the wail as Knockout's nanites went to work, altering her appearance and internals on a molecular level. Her t-cog sent one last jolt of agony through her frame before rolling back into a consistent, stand-by thrum.

"Scrap…" Skyquake muttered under his breath, looking her over with somewhat disturbed, judging optics, "You can Shift?"

"And it hurts like the Pits." She replied hoarsely, her vents heaving to cool her overheated systems.

Her voice sounded almost exactly the same as the Vehicon she had terminated less than a breem ago. Terabyte moved to brush away the tears she knew she cried in the transformation, only to find the Vehicon's face was physically incapable of shedding tears. She gave her standard, Vehicon frame a quick glance, then stepped around the corner with her blaster held appropriately in front of her in the same way that the Vehicons always did. She noted the convenience of her weapon Shifting with her with a grim smirk. Knockout wasn't one to often forget such details.

The group of Vehicons she'd heard coming were accompanied by Breakdown, who addressed her politely – besides herself, he was one of the few named bots who actually treated the Vehicons as Cybertronians, "Ah, how's it going '289?"

"This level's clean, sir." She grunted, gesturing down the corridor to where Skyquake and Miko were waiting just around the corner. "No Autobot scum to be seen."

"Good." Breakdown nodded, clapping her on the back like an old comrade. "I'll check the next level up, you take '42 here and check the cargo holds."

"Got it." She acknowledged, marching back towards her group with the Vehicon she'd been assigned. She waited until Breakdown and his team were out of hearing range, then knocked the flier out with a swift swing of her gun. She set the unconscious mech against the wall quietly, then beckoned to Skyquake with a wave of her hand and a low, mechly, "All clear."

"That's awesome!" Miko exclaimed, leaving Skyquake to run over and clamber up to sit on Terabyte's shoulder. Or the Vehicon's shoulder. Or however one was supposed to think of themselves while looking like someone else. "You even _sound_ like one!"

"Awesome is not among the first adjectives this brings to mind, Miko." She sighed, hating the sound of every word she spoke in a dead mech's voice, wearing a frame that didn't belong to her. "I sent Orion Pax ahead of us. We'll rendezvous at the Decepticon space bridge."

Skyquake touched her right shoulder, giving it a quick squeeze that would have made her wince if Vehicons truly had faces capable of expression. Her joints ached from the Shift. His deep voice rumbled beside her, too close to her audials, reminding her once again of the fact that she wasn't herself. "You okay?"

She scoffed at the overused notion of 'okay', and passed Miko back up to Skyquake's shoulder, which in this frame she could actually reach. "You and I both know the answer to that."

She summoned the lift and gestured for him to stay out of sight until the lift doors opened. Two Vehicons came out, nodding to her in greeting. She returned the motion, but before she could move against them, Skyquake picked them both up by their helms, slammed them together, and left them in a heap against the wall.

He flashed her a grin as they got on the elevator and Terabyte shook her helm at him fondly.

The femme was about to comment, when Miko, who was watching their interactions intently, went, "Eww… That's just weird on _so_ many levels."

Terabyte snickered, only with her altered vocalizer, it came out as a thuggish chuckle, which only made Skyquake and Miko join in with her laughter. The navy and black femme's engine groaned mutedly, "Well. That was attractive."

"Oh, definitely." Skyquake agreed in mock seriousness, faking a cough of his vents.

The elevator chimed and the doors opened to the roof of the Nemesis. The air that greeted them was thin and cold, the cutting wind pushing at their frames. The green jet beside her quickly tucked their human friend into his cockpit, and his fans kicked in, letting her know that he'd turned on his internal atmosphere adjusters to accommodate the child.

She'd expected there to be more of a fight between them and the ground bridge, but the deck was completely abandoned. One Vehicon jet sat slumped up against the console with a dent in the back of his helm, but other than him, there was no one to be seen. In its ring, the bridge portal swirled a peaceful mix of greens, blues, and purples.

She cocked her helm, shivering uncomfortably as a tire in her lower pede spun on its axle as the wind whistled through it. She stomped her foot slightly to make it stop, her engine growling. Skyquake laughed at her, but she just glared at him, snapping defensively, "What? It feels weird!"

"C'mon, Terabyte. Let's get out of here."

"Fine. I'll check the coordinates." She said, annoyance tinging her voice when the offending tire continued to spin. "They're good, let's go."

The femme ran through the portal behind Skyquake, emerging on the other side to find a battle raging. The first thing she saw was Megatron's fist colliding with Orion's face, leaving the latter on his aft before the angry warlord. Around the cavern, Ratchet, Bulkhead, Bumblebee, and Cliffjumper were all sprawled on the floor.

Cliffjumper, who was among the worst for wear, groaned and tried to push himself upright when he heard their portal, only to collapse again.

"Your spark may be at the right place, Orion," Megatron sneered as he extended his sword and raised it to strike, "But you have much to learn before you can ever again hope to stand your ground against me. A moment, sadly, which shall never come."

Hardly had the warlord said as much when Skyquake lunged at him, tackling him off the once and future Prime with the war-cry of a Pit-fighter. In moments the two gladiators were swirling around each other in a vicious dance to the death, blades and armor clashing loudly, all boundaries gone as mentor and protégé battled. Honor kept no hold on either mech as they were plunged into the rhythmic flow of kill or be killed; survival was the only law that bound them.

Mesmerized by them, she barely even noticed the rest of the cavern. The majestic swirl of blue lights entering Orion's spark from a little card in Jack's hand went completely unnoticed by her until she was torn back into reality by a massive wrecking ball smashing her off her pedes and flat onto her back.

Her visor brightened in fear as she recognized a mad fury in Bulkhead's optics. She could feel her internals being crushed under the colossal weight of the Wrecker as he pinned her dark purple frame to the floor. Her spark cringed as its chamber – built to withstand immense pressures – started to crumple under his weight.

Terabyte tried to speak, but couldn't manage a sound, silently begging him to stop. She stretched out a large clawed hand that wasn't her own, touching his gently in a plea for mercy. Her vision was filling with static and she could hardly think, but at last she remembered her comms. She didn't even have Bulkhead's frequency.

She commed the first bot she thought of, desperation skewing her glyphs, /Cliff!/

The horned mech met her visor with his sky blue optics and they widened in shock, "Bulkhead! _Stop_!"

The pressure lessened fractionally and her engine hitched painfully as it received power flow again, her vents rattling in her frame as all of her systems fought to take advantage of what little relief she'd been granted. If there was such a thing as fate, it apparently hated her these orns, because this was the second time she'd nearly been squished to death in as many quartex. Not to mention all the rest of everything she'd been through.

"Why?" Bulkhead asked, confusion lacing his voice.

"That's TB!"

The Autobot squinted down at her, then back at Cliffjumper, looking at his comrade like he'd lost it. "Uh, mech? This is a Con. Just like every other Con we've bashed."

"Don't. Kill-!" She squeaked out, wishing she had had the forethought to Shift back before coming through the portal. That would have spared her a whole lot of unneeded pain just now. "Plea-!"

Her still-crushed vocalizers cut off with a fizzle of static and Bulkhead cocked his helm at her, transforming the wrecking ball back into his hand and picking her up off the ground by her crumpled chest-armor.

"Prove it, Con."

"Miko." She groaned, sagging with the reprieve where she dangled from Bulkhead's grasp. Her helm twitched in a feeble gesture towards the Lord Protector and her own protector, "Wi' Sky. _Safe_."

At her words, the mech's optics widened and he lowered her just a fraction, his mouth falling agape. "Oh, thank the Allspark she's okay."

Terabyte waved at him, imitating the mech's human charge, "Hiya."

Bulkhead dropped her as though he'd just been burned, then held her up as her balance wavered. She flared her mostly ruined violet armor and straightened stiffly, rubbing her chest-plates where her spark throbbed painfully in its squashed chamber.

"Thank you." The femme croaked, stumbling over to Bumblebee and rolling him over onto his back with a grunt, checking him carefully for major injuries. Badly dented helm, but other than some dents and scuffs he seemed alright. Skyquake came over and scooped up the scout, running him to the swirling portal beside the space bridge.

She then tried to make her way over to Cliffjumper, who crawled over to meet her half-way. He put a hand on her Vehicon shoulder, looking over her altered frame briefly before shaking his helm at her, "TB, relax. We're all fine. We're all safe."

"Arcee?"

"Is perfectly fine, over there with Jack. We need to get everyone through the ground bridge home, alright? OP is fighting Megs, but can't hold him off forever. Skyquake's already taken Ratchet, Miko, and Bee through. Arcee, Jack, and Bulk are going through right now." Cliffjumper listed everyone that had been there, since he knew that she would ask.

He patiently dragged her to her pedes and they both leaned one on another as they limped towards the portal Optimus was defending for them. "C'mon, Boss Bot! That's everyone!"

"One day I will fall, Megatron, but today is not that day!" The Prime shouted confidently, kicking Megatron back and retreating to the portal with his blasters aimed at his brother's spark, backing through the portal right behind Cliffjumper and Terabyte.

As soon as she stepped into the Autobot base, the still Vehicon-framed femme met the optics of the entire Autobot team gathered together. Raf ran up to meet Miko and Jack and looked up at the cobalt and scarlet Prime.

"O-Optimus?"

"Hello, Rafael." The Prime responded with a small smile. The children gasped, then jumped up and down with joy.

"Wooo! The Big Guy remembers us!" Miko cheered, punching the air victoriously.

Skyquake was right by her as soon as she stepped through and he smiled at her. "You did it, Tera, you brought our Prime home."

She smiled at him and gripped his hand tightly as she forced herself through a final, excruciating Shift back into her own frame. She didn't make any effort to raise her mask, or stop the tears flowing from her optics. The little two-wheeler grinned widely for them all to see, laughing as tears of joy and pain mingled together streamed down her face, then she flung herself into Skyquake's arms.

"We came home, Sky!" She giggled, revelling in the safety of Autobots and her best friend's embrace, "We came _home_!"


	6. Consequences of Courage

**The Honor in Duty**

 **Chapter 6**

 **Consequences of Courage**

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 **Disclaimer: I do not own the Transformers or the Transformers: Prime television series. I own only my OCs and my plot.**

 **Okay guys, the last few chapters have been pretty action-packed, so this one's a bit of a filler, but a vital one. As far as this being so late, well, life's been crazy, so I'll just be updating whenever I can for the forseeable future. So thank you all for your patience and for sticking with TB!**

 **Review Responses: _To AllSpark Princess:_ _Yes! Victory for Team Prime, all have returned! I'm not gonna give away any spoilers, but Soundwave is very good at what he does. So is Ratchet though, so who knows? We'll just have to wait and see what happens!_**

 ** _To Cashagon:_** ** _Ohhh, yes the last chapter was quite a lot of fun to write, I'm glad you enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it! Miko is such a fun character to write, and I don't get a chance to very often, but when I do, she's priceless. And this chapter won't disappoint. Lots of emotional stress and recouping in here, so enjoy the feels!_**

 ** _To redlinevcr:_** ** _Alas, unfortunately not every chapter can be so amazingly long as the last one. I'm glad you enjoyed it, and encourage you onward to the next chapter!_**

 ** _To ZabuzasGirl:_** ** _Haha! Welcome back! It's nice to see that you've found the sequel to Duty and Deceit. Enjoy!_**

* * *

" _Makeshift?" She asked softly, peeking into her mentor's small allotment of space in the over-crowded med-bay._

 _He sat upright on a berth, his rust red optics offlined, sharp claws clasped and propped casually over his abdomen. The charcoal Shifter's sharp features were mottled in numerous places with patch metal, especially around his chest. Jagged, newly-set welds covered his frame wherever patches didn't, and his lips were curled into a harsh sneer, nullifying the illusion of restfulness._

 _The little two-wheeler prodded gently at the bond they held between them, volunteering a brief pulse of worry and desire to help in any way she could. Her mentor onlined one optic to regard her with a flat gaze shielding an underlying fury that she could feel tinging the edges of their link._

 _ **You okay?**_ _She asked silently, using the bond rather than speaking aloud in the packed and bustling medical ward._ _ **Reports said your cover broke.**_

" _My_ _ **cover**_ _was handed to the Prime on a silver platter, along with our whole entire slagging attack force!" Makeshift snarled, clenching his fists in anger. Beside him, the monitor's slow beeping sped up significantly._

 _The masked femme glanced around, noting the curious glances her mentor's outburst brought._ _ **What do you mean? Do you think you were sold out?**_

 _ **I know I was sold out.**_ _He growled again,_ _ **We have a spy in the CI and you and the Wave need to**_ **find** _ **the glitch. We got our afts handed to us, 'Byte.**_

 _She grimaced as her datapad vibrated in her servos, sending a ping through her comms system. That would be the casualty list coming in. She'd have to go through each bot's files and transfer them to the deceased records. The two-wheeler noted the size of the file, a resigned dread settling in her spark. That was a lot of loved ones to send condolence letters to._

 _ **I know, Shift… I know.**_ _She sighed heavily, her outward air of formality hiding very little of her state of mind from the mech._ _ **How badly were you harmed?**_

 _Makeshift huffed, shrugging the question off and crossing his arms over his chest with a wince._ _ **I'm better off than most of our force. They took out a quarter of us before we even knew what was going on, then another quarter snuffed by the time the call to retreat got out. Almost all of the rest of us're in here, rusting on our afts while the 'Lord Protector' tries to fix our screw up.**_

 _ **This massacre… This wasn't your fault, Makeshift.**_

 _Her engine rumbled in righteous fury at this betrayal, from within her own division. The division of which she was supposed to be the second in command, the leader. She and Soundwave ought to have noticed if there was a traitor in their midst. She ought to have prevented this before it could even have been an issue, much less a defeat so colossal as this._

 _She reiterated determinedly,_ _ **No, this isn't your fault. The life-En shed today rests on my spark. And I swear to Primus and the lives that have joined him: I will find this traitor and when I do, I will**_ **end** _ **him.**_

Skyquake smiled down fondly at the little femme hugging him like he was her lifeline. He had to admit it made him feel good. It was also humbling to have such undoubting faith placed in his unworthy self.

In the corner of his optic, the jet saw Bulkhead's expression suddenly go sour as Miko vibrantly related her short adventure of a failed rescue operation with the AWOL Decepticon defector. Almost too late, he pushed Terabyte aside right as the Wrecker's fist swung in, crashing into his face with enough force to make the larger jet stumble back a step.

"What. Were. You. Thinking?!" The olive Wrecker shouted, fist swinging again. The gladiator instinctively grabbed the mech's fist, crushing it hard enough to make the attacks stop. Bulkhead growled at him, yanking his fist back and waving his hand in Miko's direction, "What were you thinking? She's a sparkling! You don't take a sparkling into an enemy mothership! You could have killed her!"

The jet's wings pulled upwards and splayed out in an aggressive stance. He straightened with a challenging rumble of his own, more powerful engine, glaring down at the Autobot, " _Miko_ wanted to help rescue her friends and saw the opportunity when _I_ decided to do something about it. Unlike her guardian. And everybot else in this base."

"Your idea of a rescue is getting yourself beat half to death and imprisoned with a sparkling in your cockpit the whole time?" Bulkhead shrugged off Bumblebee's restraining hand and ignored Miko's loudening protests, mixed with whispers of apology from Terabyte, who was standing to the side of them, mask back up and scarlet optics wide.

"Miko was aware of the dangers when she volunteered. You ought to trust your ward's judgement." Skyquake snarled back, earning a shout of agreement from the human girl.

"Her judgement isn't what I don't trust! You should have known better than to take a child into a war-zone!"

At that, Skyquake flung up his hands, shoving past the Wrecker with a snarl, his tone incredulous as he gestured to the other two children and the woman that was Jack's carrier, "Then what on Cybertron have you been doing for the past year and a half? Because last I checked, using children to rob museums, keeping them in what to them is an alien base where our very life-blood and fuel is deadly to them, and sending them to our war-shattered homeworld didn't count as a school project, Bulkhead."

Optimus came in to the conversation that he'd simply been observing up until then, resting a hand of encouragement on Bulkhead's shoulder. "Skyquake is correct, Bulkhead. The choice was Miko's to make, and he protected her to the best of his ability. She is returned safe and unharmed, and for that you owe Skyquake your gratitude, not judgement."

The Prime turned to him with a small smile, "However, perhaps having a plan of action prior to attacking the Decepticon forces may be more effective, should someone require rescuing again."

"Yes, Prime."

"No, you are not 'just fine' and no you will not go tend to yourself, and you certainly aren't going to go around doing my job for me!" Ratchet bellowed, drawing the Skyquake's attention to the sight of Terabyte getting half dragged to the med-bay.

She was trying to argue the logic of allowing her to help, but the gruff red and white medic was having none of it, and he sent Jetfire out to begin repairs on the other Autobots to attempt to alleviate her concerns.

The medic growled impatiently, "Yes, I can see that Skyquake needs medical attention! Jetfire is more than qualified to take care of it! I don't care who you think is more deserving of my time, youngling, so help me-!"

His grumbling faded into an unintelligibly muffled continuation of his griping as the two disappeared into the medical bay. The remaining Autobots outside chuckled at the femme's plight, each of them having found themselves in her position many times before.

 **Three Days Later**

She sat on the berth in Ratchet's domain, swinging her pedes idly over the edge, for the most part patiently waiting for the medic's assessment of her health. Again. Or still. He had been working on her in between threat-enforced recharge cycles far longer than she cared for, yet appreciated afterwards every time.

She had run a diagnostic over herself, so she was well aware of the reason for the calamitous racket going on in the next room over. Today however, he had apparently discovered what he deemed the last of the wrongs in her frame, and was now having an only partially informative fit about it in the next room over with the rest of Team Prime.

Terabyte supposed that they had left her in here for the purpose of discussing her poor state of frame and mind in privacy, but as usual they forgot just how much better her audial finials were compared to the next bot. She shuddered, wishing Skyquake hadn't have gone in with them. Even Jetfire and the humans had left her in favor of hearing the medic's prognosis.

It wasn't going to be good, she knew that much.

She was far underweight, she had more bruising than she did healthy protoform, including what felt like a cracked spark chamber courtesy of Bulkhead. Ratchet had insisted on putting her in stasis for all of the check-ups so far, so unfortunately, she had nothing but her own self-assessments to base the severity of her injuries off of. Her whole frame in general ached and her pain receptors had been going haywire since about the first two joors back from the Nemesis. Her internal system calibrations were all so far off she knew Ratchet would have to help her get them back in line as a result of the Shifting.

She shuddered again, her tanks churning at the very thought of it. She wriggled on the berth, stopping her swinging pedes as her whole frame seemed to erupt in fire, her armor itching like she had rust mites. Her optics closed and she took in a deep vent, rolling her shoulder tires in agitation.

A finial flicked as Ratchet started yelling incomprehensibly. Very likely finding every derogatory term he could think of for Knockout whilst flinging wrenches at walls and Autobots who couldn't have done anything about it. Terabyte dug her claws into her right gold-jointed knee as it spasmed painfully, her vents trembling.

She hissed faintly, wrapping her now Energon stained servos in her other hand, focusing on smoothing out the inconsistent cycling of her ventilation systems. The two-wheeler's processors whirled through another set of diagnostics, but she still couldn't find anything in them to explain how she felt.

Her systems had been running unusually high temperatures ever since coming back to Outpost Omega, but she'd dismissed it as insignificant. Now that the temperatures had been rising at an alarming rate as the joors passed, she was beginning to grow concerned. Her spark fluttered and her vision blurred over with static briefly.

"Ratchet?" Terabyte called quietly, unable to keep the waver from her voice. "Ratchet!"

When the medic didn't hear her amidst his own yelling, the navy femme slid off the berth and took a few wobbly steps towards where they were meeting. She heard what sounded distinctly like Bulkhead trying to defend himself from the medic's ire as he shouted about buckled spark-chambers.

Terabyte glared at her trembling hand as she pushed on the glass door keeping her in the medical ward. She leaned against the door for support, unable for the moment to open it. The little spy's engine growled weakly as she stood there, afraid to move lest she fall.

/Ratchet.../ She commed sloppily, the misfiring of her pain receptors seeping a blur through her processors that made it difficult to focus. /I think you should check my vitals. Also, I may, incidentally, require some assistance returning to the berth./

Moments later, she found herself scooped up in Skyquake's arms and deposited on the berth with Ratchet hovering over her rattling off a full interrogation of her status to which she responded with a shiver and a mumbled request for the temperature to be turned up. She was suddenly so cold, even with the fire lacing through her frame.

Skyquake stood nearby, watching her with an expression that she vaguely recognized as fear and rage brought with it. The last time those perfect ruby optics held that look, the Autobots lost their best tactical officer and second in command.

"Don't kill anyone, Sky…" She whispered, offering him a weak, lopsided little smile, her mask having slid down at some point. "Promise, I'll be… fine."

Ratchet frowned. "None of your injuries should have this effect on you. Not even Knockout's nanites are responsible for this. Terabyte, I need to know _exactly_ what that malfunction of a medic did to you."

She sat up shakily, clenching her fists as another spasm jolted her frame. "He took out your tracker. He… put in the nanites – took several attempts to make them functional – and painkillers. Lots of painkillers. Also lots of modifications to my transforming cog, vocalizers, and neural net. Then of course there's the slave codes that he and Soundwave installed at the same time that they manipulated me in to believing that Skyquake had been terminated."

The femme's optic ridges pulled together in a contemplative scowl. "Three full Energon purges, first for the Dark Energon, then twice for the nanites. A t-cog transplant after the original tore in a Shift gone wrong – as well the secondary fuel tank, which also ruptured. A couple of joint reconstructions, and he had to rewire communication systems…"

Trailing off, the spy nodded. That about summed it up. Everything else was just minor repairs from the beginning stages of the Shifting. Telling the medic about every single little damage was pointless, it would only send him into an even greater rage than the current, and she was not in the mood for causing needless grievances.

As it were, Ratchet's turquoise optics were narrowed in barely subdued anger. She predicted something would be inexplicably riddled with wrench dents in the near future. The medic's engine rumbled in sync with Skyquake's beside her and she absently leaned towards the green jet and his troubled EM field, allowing her own field to wrap around his, pulsing safety and reassurance.

He was angry enough that his emotional electro-magnetic field was actually beginning to physically spark, but her gently calming field seemed to calm the mech slightly.

Suddenly Ratchet stopped running the scanner over her for the umpteenth time, his optics widened and he let out a brief exclamation of understanding. "By the Allspark, I'm a fool!"

"Congratulations. How is this relevant to Terabyte?" Skyquake drawled, sweeping optic ridge quirked up in impatience.

"How much sedation and painkillers did he administer, and how frequently?" Ratchet demanded, pulling her somewhat gruffly from her attention to Skyquake.

She blinked at him and the force of his questioning, flicking her finials to shake out a tiny amount of ticklish numbness that was creeping through them. "Joorly… I am unaware of the dosage, he just said that it was more than normally acceptable… Why?"

The medic spluttered furiously, grumbling unintelligibly at increasing volumes for half a breem straight, flinging his hands and wrench around like he was mentally beating somebot. At last he exclaimed, "Joorly? _Joor_ ly?! Of all the two-bit, glitching-! What on Cybertron was he thinking?!"

The little femme scooted over on the berth so that she was neatly tucked into Skyquake's side, her armor pinned down over her uncontrollably shivering frame. Her voice was small and tentative when she spoke next, looking to Skyquake as she addressed the medic. "I-I suppose now isn't a good time to ask for a pain chip then? R-Ratchet, it _hurts_ …"

He instantly wilted and sighed heavily, looking completely exhausted and drained. He shook his helm gently, then stopped himself. The white and red medic pulled a small chip from his subspace, pressing it into the slot under her wrist-plate gently, "This is three-quarters the recommended maximum dosage. I can't guarantee how long it will it last."

Ratchet turned and dug through his supplies for two breems, then turned to Skyquake and gave him a hand-sized box filled with pain-chips ordered by color in descending order of strength. "She can have _one_ of the blue ones every two joors. No more, no sooner, no matter what. A week of that dosage, move down and increase the time between by one joor. Understood?"

"What is wrong with her, Medic?" The green jet growled, taking the offered box with a suspicious glare, nonetheless pleased to note that Terabyte's trembling had abated slightly.

The medic snarled, then spat, " _Knockout_ got her systems addicted to all the slag he was giving her to keep her functional enough to keep _experimenting_ on her."

"He didn't like it any more than you do, Ratchet." Terabyte defended softly, staring out blankly into space as the chip he'd given her seemed to wipe away the pain with its tender touch. "He didn't-"

Skyquake's deep growling, directed at her, cut her off, making her pull away from him and watch him with confusion in her gaze. "Don't you dare defend that pit-spawned-"

She interrupted him indignantly, "Don't _you_ dare tell me who I can and can't defend! He can change, I just know it. If you and I could change, he deserves the chance as well."

"He is not the same as us. You were misled, _Knockout_ is a demented Decepticon butcher."

"So were you!" Terabyte roared, then glowered at the towering green jet.

The jet whose story she was well aware of, because he had trusted her with that knowledge. Her lips pulled up in a snarl, and she would have stood up and flared out her armor aggressively had she had the energy. At the spark-deep hurt in his optics, she backed down and her tone softened fractionally. She hadn't meant to pull that card on him. She had no right to do that to him, and as his friend she never should have even thought it.

She stared down at her silver claws intertwined in her lap, apology heavy on her revealed, scarred face. "I'm sorry, Sky… That was undeserved. But you weren't there. It may take vorns yet, but Knockout _can_ and will change, I'm certain of it."

 **Next Rotation**

Terabyte drug herself upright in her berth, helm aching and frame burning. The pain was no different than what she had come to accept as normal. She stretched her struts slightly, spun her shoulder tires, and groaned quietly from within her engine, hissing as the stretch put a small amount of pressure on her bruised and freshly welded spark chamber.

The little two-wheeler was about to stand up and leave when she suddenly became aware of the low hum of blasters charging.

"After Optimus offed Unicron with Matrix, he didn't remember us. Megatron told you to take him to their ship, and you followed his orders." Arcee growled, her tone murderous, but her voice not rising yet, "For _four months_ you followed his orders. Do you really expect us to trust you as though nothing's changed? How many times do you think you can switch factions; flip sides on us, and us still buy your excuses?"

She sighed heavily at the words she'd heard so many times, again and again and again; every waking moment she'd lived on that ship, no matter what lengths she'd gone to to avoid their mocking, jeering faces. Traitor, flip-sides, faction jumper. "I would be a fool to presume upon such blind faith in my loyalties, Arcee, and I am more than aware of the fact that my loyalties have been less than trustworthy as of late."

The slightly taller blue and pink femme blinked indigo optics at her in confusion, clearly not having expected such a reply.

"I expect no less of you than of myself, and I know for a fact that I cannot be trusted where Lord Megatron is present." Terabyte's optics narrowed minutely at the respectful title that slipped into her words, her engine growling in distaste. Her voice lowered to hardly more than a broken whisper, "How could I expect you to trust me when I can't even trust myself?"

Arcee scowled distrustfully, then her optics softened slightly, and she put away her blasters. "What do you mean you know for a fact you can't be trusted?"

"Did Ratchet not run a processor scan of me during my time in his care?"

"He wanted your permission before invading your privacy." The other femme said, still not sounding like she particularly agreed with that decision.

"Ah." Terabyte clenched her jaw against a wave of intense craving, followed by a stinging burn through her sensory relays. She vented harshly to clear the static from her vocalizers, "When Soundwave captured me approximately one Earth year ago, he implanted a slave code, the master of which is Megatron, should the memory lock fail. Its existence remained unknown to me until Megatron informed me of it when he offered his services to our Prime."

The little two-wheeler shivered, shaking her helm to clear the continual ache in the back of her processors. She checked her chronometer briefly, finding that she wasn't due for another dose for another joor and a half. Six hours. It would seem that she had even less control over her frame than she'd thought. More than the pain, that was what really hurt.

Her control over all of herself – mentally, physically, emotionally – that was what made her herself and she prided herself on that feature. If she could not control the world around her, at least there could be one thing in her life that she could control and that was herself. Between Megatron's enslavement, her own duty, and now addictions, everything she could restrain and tame was now beyond her grasp.

The things she could once control now controlled her. And she hated every moment of it.

A broken-sounding hiccup of engines touched her audials, and Terabyte felt Arcee sit down beside her, the other femme's EM field, while still carrying the sharpness of its owner's inward pain, brushed in and out against Terabyte's in hesitant, understanding comfort.

A flash of hot pink fluid glittered as it splashed on her silver thigh, and she realized with a slight start that the distressed hiccoughing sobs were her own, along with the pained keen cutting through the near-silence of the night.

Beside her, Arcee wrapped an arm around her awkwardly, allowing the younger femme to cry her unrestrainable tears into her shoulder. The war-hardened Autobot rubbed her roommate's back gently in an attempt to sooth the rattling vents and sobs of a youngling's pain restrained for over a decavorn but now let loose against her will.

She knew all too well what that was like. When everything in your life seemed to shatter into a million irrecoverable pieces all at once and every rage and grief slowly being bottled in day by day suddenly broke through to the surface.

The breakthrough of so much hurt and so much sadness and so much inner darkness and hate; an eruption of more emotion than any one person had a right to ever feel at one time. Unstoppable, unrestrainable, and inconsolable.

She'd been there.

And that was why she simply sat there, holding the tiny, broken femme in her arms, soothing an ache that could never truly be soothed. Simply being there for the very femme that moments ago she'd held her blasters to and snarled biting words that couldn't be taken back. That Arcee honestly didn't particularly want to take back. She regretted them, yes, but she wouldn't take them back.

Also because she'd been there.

She'd been in a place where no one could trust her, where no one could be bothered to attempt to understand what she was going through, where the only words she heard were either orders or insults. But she also knew that when someone – when Cliffjumper – tried to reach her, he reached her by being honest, by being real with her. The distrusting, blunt honesty was sometimes even more touching than the lying comforts and faked understanding.

It was the middle of the night now. Two hours had passed since the young femme's tears began.

Arcee looked down at the trembling femme with indigo optics somewhere between stubborn lack of trust and soft compassion. Her optic ridges pulled into a scowl as she realized that the femme's field had changed from the shattered feeling of an emotional outpouring to something else.

Terabyte's arms wrapped around her middle tightly enough she suspected it would have hurt, her dainty silver claws piercing deep into her elbows. The femme's ragged vents now came in the forced, purposefully even cycles of a bot in extreme physical pain.

"Terabyte?" Arcee asked firmly, almost ordering an answer from her as she pried the femme's claws from her own frame. "Terabyte, what's wrong?"

The navy and black femme laughed coldly, her vocalizers heavily laced with static. She laughed again, louder, even more despairingly icy than the first, "What's wrong? What's _wrong_?!"

Her laughter trailed off into a hysterical giggle that ended in a weak sobbing chuckle, "She wants to know what's wrong! Oh, oh, that's priceless! Primus help me…"

The last sentence was whispered in a desperate plea that made even Arcee's war-hardened spark cringe at the brokenness. She was about to comm. Ratchet when the door to her shared quarters suddenly tore open – literally – and a massive blur of green rushed in, scooping Terabyte into his lap and settling down on the floor with his wings to the berth.

Arcee blinked at the abrupt entry, but said nothing as the fearsome jet sat cross-legged on her floor with a quivering ball of Terabyte in his lap burrowed into him as closely as she could while he murmured comforting nothings into her trembling black finials. Her armor was clamped tightly enough that her scarlet biolights were hidden, showing her true, tiny size, dwarfed somehow even more so by Skyquake's sheer massiveness.

"Sky… please… It hurts. Make it stop…" The femme whimpered pitifully into his armor.

His engine rumbled steadily, his tone firm, yet soothing, "Shh. I know. I know it hurts, Tera'. You know I know. But you have to be strong, you have to hold on, but you won't be alone in this. I swear to you, you don't have to do this alone."

"I-I don't wanna be strong, Sky. I just wanna make it stop!" She wailed, curling up on herself and keening shrilly, rocking back and forth violently in his embrace. "Please!"

Skyquake just held her close, staring straight ahead with an agonized expression as though remembering a long-forgotten torture. As Arcee watched him try to comfort her, she saw for the first time just why Terabyte was never afraid of the colossal war-mech that was Megatron's own protégé. For just a moment, she understood that the younger femme didn't see a threat in the killer because to her there was no threat.

"I've been where you are, Terabyte, you know what it was like in the Pits. I got through it, and I know you can too." The green defector met the terrified optics of the femme, "I know you can, because you are far stronger than I am, and you have an advantage that was taken from me. You are not alone."

"I should kill you." Terabyte whispered in reply, coolant still streaking her unmasked face, gleaming in the scar that sliced through her fair features. With that comment, the femme hid her face in his chest like a frightened sparkling, shaking in her armor with the intensity of the jolts that wracked her frame.

Several hours later, once the femme had lasted until her next dosage of pain-killers and fallen into an exhausted recharge in his arms, Skyquake gently set Terabyte back into her berth and sat down beside her as she tossed and turned in her fitful sleep.

Arcee watched him closely from where she perched on her own berth, her expression deeply contemplative. For a few breems, the three of them remained in relative silence.

Then, right as she was about to speak, the green jet spoke up quietly, his deep, rough voice minutely sheepish. "Sorry about the door."

The blue and pink Autobot let out a short bark of laughter, something about how he said it striking her as hilarious. She smiled briefly, replying almost to herself, "It needed repaired anyway."

He huffed in amusement, and the two of them fell back into an awkward sort of silence. A few klicks passed and Arcee posed the question that had been nagging at her ever since his unexpected arrival. "How did you know to come? Did she comm. you?"

The jet shook his helm, ruby optics leaving Terabyte for a moment as he looked up at her, a weariness of his own showing on his silver face-plates. "No. She did not contact me. I simply felt her distress and acted."

She pondered that answer for a while, curiosity laying hold. When she could restrain the question no longer, the warrior asked cautiously, slightly wary of what answer might come, "Are you… bonded?"

The way the mech hesitated was somewhat unusual, but she waited for his answer patiently, watching how he glanced to the young femme in her troubled recharge with a look in his optics that far exceeded the casual concern of a fellow soldier.

At last, Skyquake sighed, "No. I cannot explain how I knew to come. I simply did. I have been her protector for far too long to question it. When she needs me, I am there."


	7. Old Friends

**The Honor in Duty**

 **Chapter 7**

 **Old "Friends"**

* * *

 **Disclaimer: I do not own the Transformers or the Transformers: Prime tv series. Beta read by the amazing enmused.**

 **Helloooo beloved readers! Yes, I'm still alive! Sorry for the long hiatus there, life is crazy and I'm moving countries again soon, so life is bound to continue being such for the foreseeable future. Thank you all for sticking with me, your reviews are greatly appreciated and are a huge encouragement to me! Also, if you haven't seen it, before you read this chapter, I'd strongly advise reading my one-shot _Don't Call It Leave_. Be sure to read the author's note just a little bit below!**

 **Review Responses: _To Sunsetwater:_ _Thank you for reviewing! I'm glad you enjoyed the one-shot, and I agree, the leave time was a really great thing for everyone involved. Gotta love the Rescue Bots._**

 ** _To_** ** _WolfAssassin369:_**

 ** _To redlinevcr: Thanks for reviewing! The wait was longer than I expected, but hopefully it's worth it!_**

 ** _To_**

 _ **To AllSpark Princess:**_ _ **Well, Terabyte's journey up until this point has been filled with ups and downs, and this rollercoaster ride still has a ways to go, but as always, our Terabyte is made of some pretty tough stuff, so never fear, she'll make it through alright in the end!**_

 ** _To ZabuzasGirl: I'd hardly call this an immediate update, but here you go! Hope you enjoy!_**

 ** _AUTHOR'S NOTE: (Also, to Secretlyapartycreature):_** ** _Haha, well, actually... For anyone who might have questions about Terabyte and Skyquake and their relationship, don't worry, the brackets are there for a reason. They're just taking their sweet time. They are romantically interested, and personally, I ship them very, very hard, lol. Their relationship is a little bit complicated and will take a while to develop further, but we are getting there! While they have been close friends for over a decavorn (and I think its pretty clear that Skyquake has been very much in love with her for a good portion of that time), it's important to keep in mind that when they first met, Terabyte was a third-frame youngling newly upgraded to an adult frame. Which is the equivalent of a twelve year old. So Skyquake, being the respectable and honor-bound mech that he is, has been biding his time and being very careful in his relationship with her, not trying to push her too far too fast, and letting her mature and reach the point where she's ready on her own. She's only just recently reached the point at which a Cybertronian is actually considered an adult, so she's basically like a newly-turned eighteen year old. So don't worry, Terabyte is beginning to realize that she really does love him, and she's beginning to realize that he has for a very long time. This ship is going to sail, but its gonna be a long, slow journey!_**

* * *

 _She rolled through the smoke-laden streets of Kolkular, returning from a long rotation's errand-run to the Tactical Division on the city's upper levels. Which just so happened to be the only part of the citadel exposed to the sulphurous, ashen excuse for air in this sector._

 _Her engine gave a displeased, strained whine._

 _At this point, she was covered in enough soot and ash her paintjob was hardly distinguishable from the pitch black streets. Luckily for her, she was through for the day, and had no social engagements aside from possibly a quick refuel in the mess hall, most likely joined by Meister._

 _First on her to do list was definitely hitting the wash-racks. Yes, that would do nicely; a long, cold shower._

" _ARCEEEEEEEE!"_

 _The little two-wheeler slammed on her brakes at the life-En curdling screech, not even able to transform and draw a weapon before a full frame crashed into her, knocking victim and assailant tumbling across the broad highway. Metal shrieked and scattered sparks around as she skidded on her side over the pavement with the weight of her attacker holding her down._

 _Somehow managing to transform, the spy's optics widened as she found herself staring straight into wild optics. The attacker held her pinned to the street, crouching over her frame and snarling like some sort of feral beast, long claws piercing deep into the spy's protoform, drawing life-En with ease._

 _She deduced that her attacker was a femme, and said femme was now sniffing her like a turbo-fox on the hunt. Ashy grime covered the femme's frame, but the harsh scent of rust and old life-En solidified the suspicion in her mind._

" _Flamewar."_

" _My beautiful Arcee…" She cackled madly, "I have waited for this moment for decavorns."_

 _The two-wheeler pulled away from the femme, ignoring the searing pain as her assailant's razor-edged claws, one in her arm and one in her chassis, twisted sharply in the femme's excitement and lust to kill her. Life-En mixed with the volcanic ash covering her chassis._

" _I am not Arcee." She snarled, not bothering to hold back the annoyance in her tone. She was not in the mood for this. "I am First Major Terabyte of Soundwave's Communication and Intelligence Division. Release me imm-"_

" _LIES!" Flamewar shrieked, lashing out at her face-plates, claws shearing away long slivers of her Prussian blue battle mask. "I will rip your treacherous frame to-"_

 _The femme's dark red optics flashed brightly then went dim and her overheated frame collapsed on top of the small two-wheeler with a crunch as the femme's weight plunged her claws deeper into her victim's chassis. The spy bit down hard on her glossa to stop her scream, golden optics flaring bright._

 _Venting heavily where she lay, the two-wheeler felt someone roll Flamewar's limp figure off of her. The black mech chuckled, offering her a hand up. His unusually dark red visor glinted in the smoky air, a bright grin on his face. "Femme's a real nut-job."_

 _She snorted, accepting Meister's offered hand, "No kidding. Makes a triple-changer look sane."_

 _He huffed, looking her up and down with a grunt of what almost seemed like concern, "You're hurt."_

 _The major glanced down at her somewhat mutilated chassis and arm. It looked a lot worse than it felt, but it still didn't feel too great. "The damage is not major. I will pay the Medic a visit. Your assistance is appreciated, Meister."_

" _Can hardly stand." The mech grumbled skeptically, his dark visor flashing briefly. She puffed up her armor indignantly, hissing at the mech as he wrapped her arm over his shoulder, supporting most of her light weight. "Doubt you'd go to the medic if I didn't take you."_

 _She jerked away from the larger mech, gold optics smoldering. "My well-being is none of your concern."_

 _Meister flashed that grin at her, shrugging and leading on as she stumbled along beside him. After awhile she'd lost enough life-En that her pedes were having difficulties supporting her weight and her HUD flashed a near constant stream of errors. She had sustained injuries far worse, these truly were not major, but she still knew her limits._

 _She could've sworn the black and red mech's engine gave a triumphant rumble when she was forced to accept his support._

 _Blast! We need Jazz for this._

Terabyte winced at the medic's frustration, feeling it spike through her helm in waves rolling off of the mech's mental presence. These continual medical scans of her processors were becoming increasingly annoying to both of them. He simply couldn't get to the skilfully barricaded slave codes in her processor, much less do anything about them.

She tried to fight off the pulse of betrayed hatred bubbling up in her at the name Ratchet mentioned. As the familiar faceplate appeared in her memory, visor dark, a murderous grin on his face, the femme silenced a growl of her engine. With the medic in her helm though, her outward control served very little purpose in the scheme of things.

Brushing up with that memory came the guise he'd worn and befriended her behind, which she quickly shoved out of her thoughts, back into the dark corner of her processor where she hid the things she no longer wished to recall.

 _You knew Jazz?_

Ratchet's confusion and curiosity were equally clear as he regarded the mixed emotions swirling through her at the thought of the mech. Primarily the thoughts consisted of rage, anger, guilt, though she knew that he felt the betrayal, and the wistful regret as well. The medic didn't ask, but she could feel his questions burning in him. He was perplexed by the regret, knowing that she couldn't have known him as anything other than an enemy.

And the guilt.

She'd slammed aside that emotion almost before he could have noticed it, but she could tell it bothered him. He had no idea why she ought to feel guilt about Jazz. Worry was beginning to pulse from the medic. They hadn't heard from the spec ops mech for vorns.

 _Had she killed him? Primus, he didn't know if he could handle knowing her to be responsible for the termination of so many of his dearest-_

Just as soon as Ratchet started thinking along those lines, he cut himself off, feeling a spark-wrenching, overwhelming recollection of self-loathing and guilt from the femme whose mind he was currently sharing. Terabyte bit hard on her glossa, snapping up her battle mask and venting hard as she devoted her full energies and focus to holding back the multitude of faceplates that haunted her recharge.

Regret, pain, and apology washed over her from the medic, a nearly incomprehensible string of panicked thought as he tried to repair the damage of his unrestrained thought.

She cut him off gently, the feelings being nothing new to her. She had done horrible things in the name of both vengeance and of a cause that was nothing more than an intricate lie. It was something she would have to live with. On both sides of this accursed war, every mech had committed atrocities, and every mech had to live with that pain.

It was nothing new.

 _You need not apologize, Ratchet._ Terabyte sighed heavily, physically and mentally, in an attempt to stabilize the whirlwind of her own mind and of Ratchet's. _And it may comfort you to know that I did not offline Jazz. So far as I am aware, the mech is alive and well to this day, causing trouble for Decepticon forces elsewhere in the cosmos._

Her mental tone was icy and detached, her thoughts now carefully held in check, emotions relatively masked from the medic's awareness, allowing the distracted mech to return part of his attention to the slave codes he was attempting without success to remove.

 _Yes, I knew Jazz. Our history is... complicated, and a rather painful topic that I would prefer not to speak of._

 _But- how? Why? The guilt?_ The medic growled at himself for being a nosy glitch, causing the faintest of smiles to touch the small femme's expression. _Nevermind, I won't pry._

The navy and black femme looked down into her lap, a sour taste on her glossa as she watched the dull glow of scarlet cast from her optics and biolights. _The guilt is an old guilt, a guilt attached to my loyalties as a Decepticon. He... is a very skilled special operations mech._

In spite of her best efforts, the anger in her spark was still very plainly felt, and the medic didn't push any further. Not long after, he gave up on the slave codes for this session and pulled out of her processors.

"I can reset your internal lighting to its original color." Ratchet said quietly, almost whispering, like he was afraid that mentioning it would cause the bottled anger he felt inside her to manifest itself. "If you would like."

Terabyte glanced up as Optimus stepped into the room, most likely to check up on her progress. She was down to just one dose of sedatives a day now. It had been almost two months now since their escape from the Nemesis; one of those months she'd spent on medical leave. No doubt she owed her rapid recovery from addiction to Skyquake's insistence on hastening her withdrawal process and pushing her to her limits.

She was grateful.

Her protoform was still heavily bruised, and she was nearly half the weight a healthy Cybertronian of her frame and size ought to be, her energy reserves still depleted, leaving her easily exhausted. Ratchet insisted she recharge every rotation, following the humans' sleep cycle, which to her seemed like an absurd waste of precious time in which she could be being more productive, yet recharge came easy every night.

Unfortunately, the same could not be said of how well she _stayed_ in recharge. Her nightmares came frequently, often leaving the femme sitting up awake at night, vents heaving, spark aching.

"No thank you, Ratchet." Terabyte replied firmly, "They serve to remind me of the evils I am capable of, a constant reminder to prevent my ever allowing such raging lust for revenge as dwells within me from ever controlling me again."

The Prime's engine rumbled in slight disapproval, and his cobalt optics held hers with that spark-piercing gaze that the Matrix gave him, that calming, authoritative aura of power radiating from him. Though still perturbed by how the Matrix seemed to lay her spark out bare to the mech, it comforted her to know that the Prime truly was back.

"Terabyte, I believe you are right, in part." Her spark fell and she felt her frame wilt slightly in shame, in spite of her efforts to maintain a stiff posture. The Prime continued, "It often does one well not to forget what they are capable of. Every bot possesses a natural inclination and ability for committing atrocities."

"Optimus-" Ratchet started to object as he watched the femme sitting on the berth, her armor gradually deflating and pressing into her malnourished protoform, making her appear pitifully tiny.

"However, I disagree with your methods." The Autobot leader continued, his tone softening as he crossed the distance between them, setting a large hand on her shoulder, causing her to lift her downcast gaze towards him, "You are not a monster for the things you have done, Terabyte. Nor are you defined by your past. No more than I, or any other bot."

"You have always fought for what you know in your spark is right, I believed that of you when first we met on opposite sides of the battle, a decavorn past, and I believe that of you today." The Prime sat down beside her, his optics gentle and his EM field washing over her with the soothing, healing strength of his own spark and the Matrix within him.

Her pinned-back finials perked up minutely, flicking and spreading out subconsciously seeking to absorb the waves of calming energy flowing from him. She knew his presence didn't always feel like this, that he was utilizing the Matrix to comfort her, and she smiled.

She was beginning to understand what Bumblebee meant when he spoke of Optimus as a father to them.

"There comes a time when it is best to leave the past behind us, to leave the reminders of our failings behind and allow ourselves to heal, and to become better from our mistakes, rather than holding ourselves in a state of brokenness." He held such a wisdom in his optics, the wisdom of many lifetimes.

The weariness in his optics had not returned though. Everything else from his Primehood had returned, but the weariness had been replaced with a burning hope that lifted her spark every time she looked into those piercing optics.

Terabyte pondered his words thoughtfully, understanding the words, but struggling to allow her stubborn processors to accept them as true.

"It is my experience that doing what is right is easiest when our thoughts are focused on doing what is right, rather than on not doing what is evil."

She nodded, that last statement bringing everything else together in her mind. She frowned minutely, then said quietly, "The future is far brighter than the past, so long as we do not attempt to drag the past into it along with us."

Having listened to their conversation in silence up until this point, Ratchet nodded in approval from where he stood behind his Prime and his young femmeling. He was a fool to doubt Optimus' wisdom after so long. Comming for Jetfire to join him in the med-bay, he began prepping his tools for the procedure, which was admittedly a bit more complicated than he'd implied. Changing optic color was not so easy a process as changing her paint-job.

He had a feeling it would do them all well to have this particular reminder removed from their lives. And it would bring back the confidence this little femme had nearly eradicated from herself.

 **A Week Later**

A curly red-haired woman of about twenty-five years pulled up in front of the elementary school, clad in black jeans, a navy t-shirt, and a simple gold chain around her neck, matching the bracelets on her wrists. A pale, jagged scar cut across her left cheek from below her unnaturally bright gold eye to the top of her dainty lips.

She parked her sharply angled, three-wheeled motorcycle and stood up, shaking out her pony-tailed hair and stretching her small frame. Her gold eyes, sharp features, and slightly pointed ears gave her a distinctly elven appearance that drew the awed gazes of several children passing by.

Terabyte however paid them no mind as she searched for her young friend, the little blond one that seemed to read her like a book. She was exhausted, and it wouldn't be long before Ratchet discovered where she had escaped to, but she needed to make sure that the child was still safe.

"Terabyte!"

She turned her holoform to the one who'd called her name and she smiled fractionally, her eyes brightening. "Good cycle, Raf."

The boy grinned up at her, pushing his red glasses up, then running up and touching her handlebars briefly in greeting as well as hugging her holoform. He looked excited at first, but as his questions progressed his expression grew concerned, "What are you doing here? I thought you were supposed to stay at home, recovering?"

His worried expression once again washed fond memories of her younger sibling through her mind and spark, causing a sharp pang to shoot through her spark, somehow reopening the old wound of his absence as well as healing it with their similarity.

"I will be fine, Raf." Terabyte answered, still glancing around for her other human friend. "I simply came to see a-"

A little girl, perhaps five years younger than Rafael, squealed with joy and burst in, politely pushing past the boy to hug her tightly, blond braids bouncing as she giggled. "Ms. Byte!"

Terabyte laughed softly, fondly hugging the child back. "Hello, Taia."

Raf watched their interaction, his round brown eyes wide in surprise and confusion clear on his fleshy face. The gentle wind ruffled through his spiked hair and over-sized sweater. "Uh… Tera? I thought Op- our study group was supposed to be secret?"

She smiled a little wryly at that, extricating herself from the blonde girl's embrace, "She found me on her own. Raf, this is Taia. Taia, Raf."

The boy waved shyly at the girl, and she waved back happily, holding Terabyte's holoform hand. The girl looked up at her, the bright grin twisting into a pouty rebuke, "You're still being your fake you, I like the other one better. And you look really, really tired."

"Come, Taia, Raf, we ought to discuss this somewhere perhaps more private, since your hours of education are complete." Terabyte swung her holoform's leg over her seat, sticking Taia on her lap and gesturing for Raf to sit behind her.

She revved her engine, and once all passengers were secured, the femme drew in her kickstand and drove out in the direction of her forest hide-out. Taia shrieked in excitement as they sped along, while Raf hung on tight to her holoform.

About five minutes later, she helped her young riders disembark, then dissolved her holoform and transformed with a series of clicks and clangs that were still a bit louder than healthy. She sat down cross-legged on the forest floor and soon after the two children did as well.

Raf opened his mouth to speak, shoved his glasses up on his face, then started again, "D-does Optimus know…?"

Terabyte shook her helm minutely. She was about to reply when Taia giggled, bouncing up and down in her spot, unable to contain herself as she grinned at Raf. "This is so cool! You know about 'em too!"

"It is pretty cool, isn't it?" Raf agreed, the younger child's excitement almost contagiously spreading to him.

Taia sobered, tilting her helm at Terabyte, the smiling and nodding as though satisfied with what she saw, "You're really, really tired now, and your eyes are still sad inside. But not so sad as they were before."

The girl lit up again, "Oh! Oh! That means you saw all the purple fire and lightning and giant rock-men last year! No one else believes that I saw the giant rock-men, but they were there, I know it! Did you see 'em too?"

Raf and Terabyte both barely had time to nod before the young girl piped up with more questions, "Oh, and that gunfire! I know it was gunfire, that made you run away, was anyone hurt by it? Can I meet your friends? How come you haven't come to see me in so long?"

She laughed at the girl's worried enthusiasm and obvious excitement, though when she spoke in answer to the questions, her tone was serious. "The gunfire you saw hit a friend of mine, as well as Raf-"

"Wow!" Taia jumped up and ran over to the slightly older boy, inspecting him more closely for some sign of injury, peering into his face and poking him a little bit as though to make sure he was actually there, "I didn't think anyone could get shot like that. Are you okay? Did it hurt lots and lots?"

The boy ran a hand through his spiky hair and pushed his glasses up, hugging his ever-present laptop to his chest, a troubled expression on his face. He never talked about it much, but Terabyte still worried about him. His DNA readings were still not normal, and it bothered her far more than it seemed to bother Ratchet or Jetfire.

"Yeah, yeah it did." Raf rubbed his upper arm shyly, smiling and brushing aside the somber tone with a laugh, "But thanks to Terabyte and Ratchet and Jack's mom, I'm fine now."

The girl's face scrunched up when he agreed that it had hurt 'lots and lots', and the little girl gave him a hug, then ran up to the femme and clambered up to stand on her shoulder, holding onto her finial for support as she looked the two-wheeler over.

"You got really skinny since I saw you last."

"And your stature has increased significantly since last I saw you." She replied with a smile, touching the giggling girl's nose with the tip of her servo.

Taia poked her small fingers into the biolights along the side of her helm by her finials, causing Terabyte to flinch away with a stifled laugh at the tickling sensation of the fleshy touch on her most sensitive equipment. The girl simply hung tighter to her finial and laughed loudly, causing Raf watching them to laugh.

"You changed colors! Not just your skin, but your eyes too!" The young blond-haired child exclaimed with another giggle, running her hands over the femme's gold biolights and Prussian blue paint. "How do you even do that? I wish I could change my eye color whenever I felt like it!"

"These are her usual colors." Raf explained, choosing at last to join Taia in using her frame as a jungle gym, scrambling up her frame to sit on her other shoulder. "This is how she's supposed to be."

The girl regarded her carefully for a moment, then tugged a bit on the blue battle mask until Terabyte obligingly lowered it to show her face. Taia grinned, "I like it. It suits you."

Terabyte smiled softly, looking at the gold glow her optics cast on the girl with a warmth in her spark.

"So do I, Taia."

 **Next Rotation**

"You're sure there's s'posed to be a pod around here?"

She stifled a moan, running her hand over her Prussian blue battle mask, gold joints glittering almost blindingly in the desert sun.

"Yes." Terabyte snapped, her patience with the large green Wrecker wearing very thin.

Bulkhead stretched and fluffed his armor out for a moment, shaking sand free from his joints with a grumble. She flicked a finial, snarling in annoyance as the blistering winds lodged more of the gritty stuff into her aching finials.

Beside her, Arcee huffed, "We could cover more ground if we split up."

The spy rolled her yellow optics, "Of this I am more than aware, and have been aware the last half dozen times you have seen fit to comment. The Prime ordered us to remain together so as to be prepared should the sleeper be less than asleep."

Tossing her glance up to where Skyquake circled lazily in the air above them, she felt a twinge of envy for the freedom he bore on his wings. Her spark seemed to draw her to the sky, her Energon singing with longing to feel the clean currents of air sweeping through her frame. She didn't dare open her vents to clear out the sand piled in them, in spite of their having been closed the whole time they'd been in this sandy wasteland.

"According to my calculations, the pod ought to be directly in front of us."

"Ought."

She shot the older femme a silencing glare.

Optimus had put her in charge of the mission again. Because her being in charge of the last sleeper mission had gone so well. After all, they had returned with Jetfire in their custody and considering defection. He was now a valuable assistant to Ratchet.

Terabyte pushed aside the burn in her spark.

How little the Prime knew of what had actually occurred in that mission. Of course, her report had been just as detailed as her standard was, however she saw little point in included personal details. Much had happened since then, months had come and gone. The pain of it hurt no less over time though.

Cliffjumper of course had no idea of how much his stinging words had hurt her. She'd been very particular on that point. He was not to see the pain he'd caused, and he was happy enough to leave it behind them. She wondered if she had yet regained his trust. The red mech's nonchalant attitude towards everything made it rather difficult to judge how he truly felt, though she knew she was a better judge than many.

His grin, while often genuine, was frequently just as much of a mask as the one she wore.

The femme, distracted by her thoughts, stepped in an indentation in the sands, sinking nearly half her frame in the hot sands. She bit back a snarl, then sighed heavily as the sand suddenly poured through her armor and into her gears. The gritty particles instantly started grinding into her still weaker than normal protoform and Terabyte growled.

"Slagging san-" She cut herself off and cocked her helm with a small frown, shifting her buried pede a little, inadvertently sinking herself another foot into the sand.

She hummed softly, a pleased rumble rising from her chest as her pointed foot felt something solid beneath it. Wriggling a bit more, she buried herself a couple more inches to stand firmly on the pod.

"Found it." Terabyte announced with satisfaction. Now all there was to do was to figure out how to get the pod up. She could practically feel the cold coolant shower already, clearing out and sooth her abraided protoform.

Arcee crouched down beside her, smirking at the smaller two-wheeler, buried almost to her shoulders in the hot desert's shifting earth. "If Cliff were here, he'd have so much fun with this."

The deep, deafening rumble of jet engines filled their audials and the whole desert seemed to stir up in a whirlwind of scorching sand around them, making all three of them shutter their optics and cover their audials to keep it out as much as possible.

A rumbling chuckle cut through the swirling sand in the air and Terabyte felt an abrupt relief from the blistering sun as she was enveloped in the massive shadow of his wings. A large servo poked her helm side to side, then up and down.

"Now's no time to have our helms in the sand, Terabyte." Skyquake said, his gravelly voice sounding nearly serious.

She smiled behind her mask, tilting her helm back to look up at him, rolling her gold optics, drawling, "I had a sinking feeling you would say something like that."

The green jet grinned at her, "You're quite good at falling into situations like this."

"No need to dig up the past now, Skyquake." Terabyte replied, not skipping a beat. She'd missed their random interactions like this. Duty had kept her away for far too long, she was glad to be back. To be home.

He clicked his glossa at her, shaking his helm fondly, amusement gleaming in his ruby optics, "Are you sure you don't need help? You've just really got yourself in up to your neck struts this mission."

"Like pit, I need your help." She snorted derisively, grinning widely behind her Prussian blue mask and squirming uncomfortably in her predicament

Arcee cleared her vents loudly, the older femme drily saying, "Hate to interrupt such a deep conversation, but we've got a mission to get on with."

All three of them cracked up, laughing at the serious tone she used. Eventually though Bulkhead started shifting from pede to pede, "Seriously guys, she found the pod. Let's dig the thing up and go home."

Skyquake shut off the small stabilizing thrusters slash makeshift sandblowers on his forearms, bending down to wipe away the sand encrusted on the plexiglass front of the pod. His engine growled lowly as he and Bulkhead heaved the pod out of the unstable sandy ground, sinking themselves just about as much as they raised the pod as the sands shifted.

With several more such attempts, the two mechs got the pod up onto level ground and the green jet glared at the pod with another growl.

"Skyquake? What is it?" Terabyte asked him, tone holding the formal detachment of mission leader once again.

"See for yourself."

He stepped aside to give her space to get up on her tip-toes and peer into the stasis pod. The jet watched her gold optics narrow as she too glared at the stasis-locked monochrome face looking back at her through unseeing optics. Even in that unconscious state the mech seemed to be leering at her.

If there was any such a thing as fate, it had a cruel sense of humor.

"It would seem that the universe is indeed a small place." Her little engine rumbled in displeasure as she commed Ratchet, "We have recovered the objective, send a ground bridge, Ratchet. And tell Cliffjumper to prepare the brig."


	8. Out of Place

**The Honor in Duty**

 **Chapter 8**

 **Out of Place**

* * *

 **Okay guys, I know it's been almost a whole year since I posted last, and I feel awful about it, but here you all go. Life has been hectic with loads of international travelling and school and my muses just simply have been refusing to cooperate. Hopefully I'll be able to return to semi-regular posting schedules soon, though that's really up to Real Life. Thank you so much for your understanding and patience everyone.**

 **Review Responses: You guys truly are amazing, and I sincerely hope you're all still here, I know it's been ages, but I'd love to hear your feedback again! I don't know what I'd do without you guys.**

 _ **To Cashagon:**_ _ **Yes, it really does seem like Terabyte knows a whole lot of Decepticons doesn't it? Honestly, it's probably in part due to how much enjoyment I have in the flashbacks, it's a ton of fun to cameo the different 'Cons. Also, since she is in Kolkular, and Kaon before that (the two largest Decepticon cities) it isn't unreasonable for just about every Decepticon in the army to pass through at some point in their career. As a high-ranking Communications and Intel bot, TB's job has her dealing with a whole lot of bots.**_

 _ **To AllSpark Princess:**_ _ **Here you go! So sorry that as soon as possible came so far down the track, but thank you so much for continually checking in on me, I honestly don't know if this update would have been possible without you!**_

 _ **To Sunsetwater:**_ _ **Honest to goodness, the psychopaths are so much fun to write, Blitzwing, Flamewar... Love 'em to bits. Not sure what it says about me that I write the crazies so well, but hey. Enjoy!**_

 _ **To Secretlyapartycreature: Oh my word, yes. Yes. Put the words together perfectly. It always drives me crazy when people go for a Disney-princess-style romance story and you're reading it and it's like five chapters in and they're hopelessly bedazzled and in love when they were at eachother's gunpoints in the first chapter. Fresh air indeed, and that was my goal.**_

 ** _To ZabuzasGirl: Well... It's not exactly immediate, but here you go! Hopefully it's worth the wait!_**

* * *

 _She drew her gold Energon dagger with a muted shink of the blade and pressed herself against the wall, a trickle of Energon running down her pede from where her mangled hip armor had pierced protoform. The two-wheeler held her mini fusion cannon charged and pointing skywards, dorsal plates pressed firmly into the wall._

 _Black finials swivelling and flicking out to catch as much sensory input as possible, the femme smirked coldly behind her Prussian blue mask._

 _Pedefalls. Coming straight towards her._

 _There was no way the Autobots should have been able to mount an attack on Kolkular itself, but Makeshift was right. The Decepticons had a traitor in their midst, so the murdering scum had known that Kolkular was stuck between troop rotations, and left with less than a quarter of their usual force._

" _Did you hear something?"_

 _Affirmative murmuring followed the question, along with hisses of the small team shushing each other._

" _This is the CI wing, it's probably just techies and Vehicons."_

 _The spy silenced a huff of dark amusement. These mechs had no idea what they had coming._

" _I coulda sworn I heard someone draw a sword."_

" _Hey, lookit tha' mechs, that's life-En!"_

 _The pedefalls hastened as the group came running straight for her with weapons ready, all of them alert and ready for a battle. She growled, but came out of her hiding place, hands raised in a surrendering position._

" _Autobots." She acknowledged, nodding to them minutely. They circled around her, closing her in, confidence in their optics that she was helpless and outnumbered. She shuttered her optics for a brief moment, collecting herself and clearing her thoughts._

 _Now to wait for the first mistake._

 _It didn't take long for the leading mech to give her the opening she needed. He reached a servo towards her, stasis cuffs in hand, a wary, but open expression on his faceplates. Fast as lightning, she lunged forward, snatching his wrist and vaulting over the mech's helm, dragging him backwards by his helm fins as she went down._

 _Not deeming a hostage situation to be effective here, the spy stabbed her dagger through his back and spark chamber, ending him quickly. The other Autobots started to scatter in panic as their leader fell without so much as a cry. She leapt on the nearest mech's shoulders, snapping his neck with her pedes as she shot the third bot in the leg._

 _He shrieked and transformed, trying to drive away, but she fired another shot straight through his helm mid-transformation._

 _The largest mech in the team, a helicopter roared in rage and charged at her, swinging his dual swords that made up his alt-mode's blades. The tiny femme easily ducked under the razor sharp edge, hearing them whistle through the air right over her finials. Doing a rushed backflip to avoid the second blade as it came closer to her hip-level, she tripped landing and hissed as she fell hard on her injured hip._

 _She snarled and managed to roll out of the way as the swords came crashing down where she had been only an astrosecond ago, then she sprang up with a brief flash of static that she ignored, getting a short running start and leaping to kick one of the mech's swords off to the side. The helicopter, black and bright blue in coloring growled at her, his lips curled up in a snarl, rage tinting his vibrant blue optics white._

 _For just a moment she froze at the gaze, then recovered in time to side-step his flying fist, slicing at his abdomen with her dagger as she did so. She missed, putting a deep gash in his thigh instead. As she turned to feint a blow to his far too high helm, his fist collided with her gut in an echoing crash._

 _Her vision flashed out and she felt her frame soar through the air, landing with a sickening crunch as she hit the corner of the hall. The femme groaned softly, but shoved herself up to her pedes, pushing off the wall with a sharp war cry, plunging her dagger into the helicopter's chest with her momentum, kicking her pointed pedes into his sides to hold herself on him as he struggled to rip her off._

 _The spy shrieked as he grabbed her by her helm, trying futilely to pull her away, then he actually bit her arm with a snarl before she fired her cannon straight into his chest. As the mech fell backwards with her still clinging on, she watched his optics go blank, her spark wrenching within her._

 _She stayed crouched over the husk for a moment, venting heavily and looking around at the carnage. All four mechs of the team crumpled and gray on the scorched and life-En splattered floor. She swallowed thickly, then stood on shaky pedes._

 _The battle had hardly just begun._

* * *

 **Brig: Omega Outpost 1**

Cliffjumper and Skyquake set down the pod right in the middle of the cell, the red mech groaning theatrically.

"So who's the popsicle of doom this time?" He patted the top of the pod then peeked in at the black and white Decepticon. Ex-Enforcer was written all over the mech's posture, paint-job, and weapons all alike, even in stasis.

Terabyte smirked at the mech's antics, rolling her optics at his new title for the sleepers. "His designation is Barricade."

She almost snarled the mech's name and Cliffjumper cocked his horned helm at her, "You know him?"

The little femme shrugged one shoulder, inclining her helm in an affirmative. Her armor was flared out and her posture stiff at the red mech's presence. Stiff to hide the shame that tried to pull her down. "Having worked as Soundwave's second in command for seven vorns, I am acquainted with a significant percentage of the Decepticon forces, either personally or through records."

The frontliner seemed somewhat taken aback and hurt by her coldly formal tone, but he just nodded with a light chuckle, "Fair point."

She sighed heavily, minutely regretting her tone, she continued with a slightly less cold voice, "I knew him only as a brief acquaintance."

"And he was a pain in the aft for every astrosecond of his miserable existence." Skyquake grumbled from behind them. "Everyone in the Decepticon force knows Barricade."

Cliffjumper laughed and gave the stasis pod a loud slap, "Well, he certainly won't be going anywhere any time in the next vorn or so."

"And thank the Allspark for that." Terabyte muttered, leading the group out of the brig with a heavy vent. The last thing they need was another smart-mouthed, arrogant Decepticon running around causing havoc on this mudball.

* * *

 **A Week Later**

The sunset was beautiful. They always were in the desert. Now, sitting with her pedes dangling over the edge of the canyon upcropping that concealed their base was not near so nice to her as sitting in the center of her forest grove, but it was still beautiful and peaceful. The open bareness of the desert was not calming to her, not like the forest, but it was peaceful and quiet nonetheless.

Terabyte brushed the hard earth beside her, knocking a pebble down the jagged canyon wall, its clattering journey to the bottom interrupting the harsh stillness. The sky's vibrant hues of magentas, pinks, scarlets, and oranges had begun to fade to indigo and a few of the brightest stars of the night shone dimly now in the sun's dying light.

"So he made you one of _them_ , huh?"

Her helm snapped to the side to watch the unwelcome interruption of her peace as he trudged toward her, coming to a halt a few paces behind her, crossing his arms to glare down at her. The way he said 'them' made it sound as though he was speaking of a rabid animal, and his tone brought her instantly to wary defensiveness.

She rose to face the mech, puffing out her armor a minute amount further. "Good cycle, Bulkhead. To what or whom are you referring?"

The Wrecker thrust his chin out to her with a grunt, "Knockout. He messed with your CNA, made you a Shifter. 'Least that's what the doc said."

"That would be correct." She seized up his confrontational posture with trained optics and shifted her posture to one more deferring and submissive, though not without dignity or confidence. "I was physically altered against my personal wishes for that is what my duty to my Prime required at the time."

"Prove it." Bulkhead grunted, challenge in his deep blue optics.

The little femme clenched her denta to bite back the nasty comment she wanted to make about how a quartex of rehabilitation, the medic's rage, and not to mention appearing before him as a Vehicon and getting her rib cage crushed beneath his very fist ought to have been proof enough for any fool with a two-bit processor to accept.

Instead she quirked an optic ridge upwards at the mech, her tone carefully level and unchanged, "As you might recall from the Medic's reports, the Shifting process is imperfect at best and causes a great deal of pain, which by Ratchet's orders my systems cannot handle at this time due to the malnutrition and stress they were put through in my time aboard the Nemesis protecting our Prime when he was incapable of protecting himself due to extenuating circumstances. Thus I will have to kindly refuse your request."

"Do I look like I care?" The much larger mech took a step closer to her, glaring down at her with an emotion closely resembling the hate she first felt for the Autobots as a whole. He growled at her, "It's gonna take a lot more than this act you have the others fooled with to earn my trust, 'Con. I've had enough of your games, flipping factions and fooling both sides like the traitor you are. You're not a redeemed 'Con and you never will be cause there's no such thing. A 'Con is a 'Con is a slagging 'Con and you'd do good to remember that, femme."

Terabyte inclined her helm to the mech, keeping her expression and voice devoid of emotion, though behind her battle mask her lip curled upwards in the sneer of all of her refrained remarks. She cycled a soft vent, her spark aching, though the past six months had grown her accustomed to such words.

"Your opinion is duly noted, Bulkhead." She turned back to face the now starry night's sky, regarding how the silver moonlight lit up the desert world, giving it a surreal beauty with empty optics, "Be aware that the Prime will be informed of this meeting."

"I'm sick of losing friends to bots like you." Bulkhead huffed, "Optimus is too trusting. Go ahead, run and hide behind Prime, just like all the defects do. They'll see what you are soon enough."

With that, the green ex-Wrecker left and Terabyte crumpled to her knees, coolant filling her optics. The stars twinkled in the sky, their clear, confident beauty seeming to mock her as she wept in silence, releasing the stress of nearly two years of confusion and struggling to find her place and gain trust, first with false intent, and then again and again honestly.

Every time she got anywhere with the Autobots, every time she gained just a little bit of their trust, she found herself kidnapped, or reprogrammed, or altered, or taken captive, or forced to take up a guise under one faction or another. It was as though fate itself deemed that she would forever remain beneath the bonds of distrust and fear.

She buried her helm in her knees and sighed heavily, coolant streaming from her optics as her spark and mind swirled in agitated turmoil.

Some time passed and the femme didn't move from where she sat curled up on herself. She was honestly surprised that Skyquake had not sensed her anguish yet and come to her. Even the Prime with his Matrix ought to have sensed such a pained spark. She knew little of the Matrix, but she knew that it granted the Prime a small amount of empathic ability.

The femme didn't begrudge the solitude though. She wouldn't have it any other way. Company was the last thing she wanted or needed right now. No bot could see her so completely broken as she now was.

A startled and also concerned whirl sounded at the entrance, making the small femme jump in fright only to curl up tighter around herself to hide her coolant-streaked face-plates from whoever it was.

Typical that someone would come just as soon as she thought of how the solitude was a blessing.

 **"Terabyte?"**

She growled faintly at the tentative calling of her designation, sounding so nice in their mother language, toneless or not. Perhaps in a way, the scout's loss was a gift to them all. Nevertheless, she didn't look up, merely burying her face deeper into her knees.

The yellow scout called her name again and her black finials flicked in agitation.

He knelt beside her and laid a hand on her upper back and rubbed her dorsal plates gently, in that same way that he had when Makeshift first broke his bond with her. Like a guardian soothing his distressed sparkling. Her spark twinged with the reminder of the old pain, now added with the new pains compiled in the past year.

 **"Terabyte? It's three in the morning, what are you doing out here? You need to rest."**

Bumblebee whirled softly, still rubbing her back as Terabyte continued to hide her face.

Careful to keep her voice as steady and cool as ever, she replied somewhat muffled, "Now is not a good time to speak reasonably with me, Bumblebee. I would prefer to be left in peace."

He let out a short, derisive little bleep, **"You seem to be in more pieces than peace."**

At that she looked up to give him a flat stare, her optics clouded with steam from her overheating systems, coolant staining her faceplates and armor. Bumblebee glanced away, taking the wordless rebuke.

After nearly a breem of silence, Bumblebee still attempting to sooth her, Terabyte's exhausted little frame began to slump against him.

Letting out a tiny sigh, the femme mumbled, "Why did you come?"

 **"I-"** The scout shrugged his doorwings with a wry little smile, **"I heard you crying."**

She nodded minutely, her tone bitter, "Why did you care?"

Bumblebee didn't answer for awhile, just gazing out into the starry sky with his wide blue optics. **"I come up here from time to time. It's peaceful."** The scout looked into her optics with concern written in his, **"Sometimes that's not always a good thing."**

Terabyte hummed in agreement, feeling recharge beginning to claim her unwilling processors. She hadn't necessarily been on unpleasant terms with the scout. They'd resolved that after Skyquake recovered from his processor trauma. She could not honestly say that she had made much effort to be on friendly terms with the mech either, though the young Praxian had tried.

 **"Who came here before me? What did they say that so upset you?"**

Flinching a little at the scout's query, the spy sighed. There was no harm in telling him, Bulkhead had continually made his opinions regarding her rather clear ever since her return. She told Bumblebee everything that the Wrecker had said and done earlier that night, leaving out nothing.

She had nothing to hide.

To fear on the other hand...

When she was finished, the Praxian's yellow doorwings were hitched up in anger, but tilted showing his grief and betrayal that his own friend would say such things.

His engine rumbled faintly and the mech whirred in displeasure and concern, **"Optimus should know about this."**

"So should Skyquake." Terabyte agreed softly, pulling away to rise, one hand held tightly over her chassis as though she could somehow hold her aching spark together, "But we will tell neither of them. In fact, swear to me you will speak to no one of this."

Bumblebee start to bleep out a protest, but she cut him off with a harsh flick of her finial. "It is not my place, nor my desire to be the cause of further contention than I have already been. The Autobots are at peace with me as a whole, I would not have that disturbed by the ill will of one mech."

The scout rumbled in disapproval, **"Optimus should know. He can help, so can Skyquake. Ratchet should know too, he treats you like his own creation."**

"They do not need to know at this time." She snarled at him, snapping her mask up and flaring her armor in annoyance. "When the time is right, I will tell them, or if they ask, I will answer truthfully, but until that point, I do not believe it would accomplish anything more than cause unnecessary strife and division among the team that we do not need so soon after the long absence of our Prime. The Autobots need to heal."

 **"And you think hiding this from them, lying to the bots who care about you, will keep their trust and encourage unity? When is lying ever a solution, Terabyte?"** The yellow Praxian came up behind her and put a servo on her shoulder, **"Lying only ever breaks, it never mends. I won't tell anyone, I respect your choice, but this can only end badly. They have a right to know."**

"And I have a right to not tell them!" She bellowed, shoving the scout to his aft, her cannon humming to life without her realizing it. "What right do you even have to be here?! You of all mechs?"

Terabyte vented heavily, her gold optics widening with alarm. She shut down her cannon with a harsh sigh and took a step back from him with trembling armor. The sedative withdrawals were still affecting her. That must be why she was like this. Surely that was it. Nevermind the medic had cleared her and declared her off the drugs.

This wasn't her. She was calm and controlled, coolly professional in any circumstance. Emotional stress was high, but she had been through worse than this on her own. Many times. Except she wasn't alone now, that was the problem. This wasn't a matter of work, this was a matter of trust and friendship.

"I apologize, Bumblebee. I appreciate your presence, truly." She vented, then offered the mech a hand up, helping him to his pedes. "But I am a spy to my spark, what else can you expect me to do? Deceit is my specialty, for good causes as well as bad: you know my record. Perhaps when the time is right, I will share what I have shared with you. Until then, let us hope to contain the breakage."

* * *

 **A Week Later**

Skyquake leaned his helm back against the wall with a sigh, his wings flicking uncomfortably as he pressed them into the wall, his pedes drawn up loosely to his chest, his arms casually draped over his knees. The monochrome room was cold and stark, but the jet paid the dull surroundings no mind.

On the berth beside the jet, Cliffjumper lay on his back with his helm hanging over the edge of the berth and his pedes propped up against the wall. The red mech groaned, lifting his hands up in the air and waving them in circles first one way, then the other, then flopping them back down to his sides.

"I am so bored I could offline."

He grunted in agreement, but said nothing in reply to the frontliner.

Glaring at the open brig door that they could leave through at any time, Cliffjumper moaned again. "What are we even doing here? There are definitely better ways to be spending our time."

"We are here because we have a sentence to pay out for the inhumane slaughter of a mech." Skyquake replied harshly, cracking his knuckles slowly and deliberately before resuming his silent vigil.

Cliffjumper lifted up his helm for a moment to look at the jet, then slammed it back down with more groaning, "Well aren't you just a bundle of joy?"

He didn't bother responding to the frontliner. They could both leave whenever they pleased. No one had ordered them to spend every groon of their off-duty time rusting in the brig with the doors wide open. Yet here they both were.

It was his duty. He had a sentence to fulfil, though their superiors had forgotten about the sentence in the aftermath of the Unicron crisis. It didn't matter that most mechs would be thrilled for their brig time to be completely forgotten.

Skyquake flicked a wing, hiding a wince as his wing-cons ground against the wall with the motion.

With the sound of approaching pedefalls, neither mech moved, but both mechs' optics brightened to alertness at the sound, watching to see who would come. The pedefalls were too light to be any of the mechs, so they both knew it was one of the two-wheelers. Skyquake allowed his optics to dim again though, his more sensitive neural sensors picking up that the approaching femme was not in fact the one he wished to see.

Arcee swung around the corner, causing the red mech to fling himself upright, flashing her his signature grin. The warrior femme quirked an optic ridge at the two frontliners, "So this is where you mechs have been."

She glanced at the open doors and stepped in, smirking wryly, "An interesting use of your off-duty time."

Inclining his helm respectfully to the femme, Skyquake returned to glaring at the wall in front of him. Cliffjumper on the otherhand, grinned brightly, patting the berth beside him, "Care to join us?"

"I think I'll pass this time, mechs, I've got a patrol with Terabyte in five." The femme strolled out, hanging off the corner and sticking her helm back around, "Care to join us for a pre-patrol refuel?"

Cliffjumper started to get up, then glanced down at him and sighed heavily, sitting back down on his berth and resuming his original position. "Maybe another time, 'Cee."

* * *

Terabyte sipped at her foul-tasting cube of nutrient saturated Energon, Ratchet's special recipe. She made a disgusted face, not bothering to hide it behind her mask. While she kept her battle mask up most of the time still out of habit, she no longer felt the need to hide behind it with the vigil she had grown accustomed to.

Given the past two and a half months of being in physical, mental, and emotional turmoil, it wasn't as if she had anything left to hide from these bots anymore. They'd seen her at her very worst.

Arcee strolled and slid into the seat across from her with a cube of her own Energon, glowing the nice bright blue that Energon should, a stark contrast from the murky gray that her medical concoction was.

"No mechs?" The younger femme asked curiously, knowing that the pink and blue femme had gone to attempt to recruit the two frontliners sitting in the open brig simply drawing out their guilt like she had for so long with her coloring. Serving their appointed brig-time after having been pardoned.

She simply hummed in agreement, downing half of her cube. "You know our mechs, stubborn to the end."

Terabyte swirled her meal with a disgusted expression, then shut her optics and swallowed it down, grimacing as the acrid taste washed over her glossa despite her best efforts. Waiting till the other femme finished her Energon, she rose, "Shall we then? Our patrol is in…?"

"Home state today. Let's go."

In a matter of klicks the two femmes were speeding over the packed, dry earth of the Nebraskan plains, spread out but remaining within visual range of each other, each motorcycle stirring up a large cloud of dust in their wakes. They drove on in silence for nearly an hour, following their patrol grid and revelling in the speed and freedom from the base.

The freedom wasn't such a rare occurrence any longer, but Terabyte was still immensely grateful to be allowed on light duty again by the strict medic. Being physically able to push her speeds again was a pleasure she hadn't had for months. Previously she'd been happy to keep five under the human's speed limits, it was beyond satisfying to see her internal speed gauge rise to a hundred and twenty of the human's miles per hour.

Ordinarily she could have easily gone at least fifty more, but by Ratchet's orders she wasn't pushing to her pre-Nemesis limits so as not to deplete her low energy reserves.

/Question for you./ Arcee commed suddenly, almost startling her from her thoughts.

Sending the accompanying glyph to indicate curiosity, Terabyte replied, /Yes?/

Rather than a question to start with, a memory file came through the comm line and the little two-wheeler would have cocked an optic ridge had she been in bipedal mode. She opened the memory file and skidded to a stop as she saw herself through Arcee's optics, tiny and vulnerable curled up on herself on her berth, giggling and sobbing hysterically.

"Primus help me…" The memory of her whispered, utterly broken.

Moments later a loud crash drew her optics up to a blur of Skyquake actually tearing the door open with his claws and drawing memory Terabyte into his lap, murmuring comforts into her sobbing, trembling helm.

With that image still forefront in her mind, the memory clip ended and Arcee asked her question, /How'd he know to come? You clearly share some form a deeper bond than the average bot, what is it?/

/I…/ Terabyte paused in the quick answer she was about to give, looking back into her own memories of that evening. She had not commed him. She'd cried out for him in her spark, but they had no bond for her spark pleas to reach him through. The femme looked deep into her spark questioningly, but could find no answer. All her spark held was the shattered remnant of a mentor bond with a dead mech. /I do not know./

She started riding again, not wanting to neglect their patrols. A carrion bird squawked at her movement again after having been still. /We are not bonded, nor is he my mentor. I am afraid I have no answer for you, Arcee./

The other femme didn't respond for awhile, then sent a curt acknowledging glyph. /He's a spark-split twin isn't he?/

Terabyte chuckled briefly, /Nor am I his twin./

/Hear me out./ Arcee snapped, then indicated that she heard something she wanted to investigate. Across the plain, the other femme transformed and clambered up the side of a canyon and scouted around it before jumping down and continuing the patrol, satisfied there was no threat. /Twin sparks work completely differently than ordinary sparks, and it's been seven and a half vorns since he's seen his other half./

/Something that ordinarily would kill both halves of the split spark./ Terabyte put in, beginning to see what the other two-wheeler was implying, yet confused.

/What if it hasn't because his spark has been treating you as a valid replacement of its other half?/

Her engine hummed, growing warm from her exertions. Her spark pulsed oddly in its chamber as though it were considering the possibility. She drove in silence for several breems, running her scans over the plains.

/Perhaps./

She said no more to the femme, but her thoughts didn't stray from their conversation. She watched the memory file a few more times, her spark pulsing fondly at the concern in Skyquake's ruby optics as he gazed down at her. Terabyte's engine let out a soft purr and she tilted a mirror, intrigued with herself for this reaction. His optics held such a warm, caring glow to them. It was interesting to watch his treatment of her from another bot's optics.

Perhaps Arcee's theory was right, or perhaps she and Sky were simply so close and so compatible that their spark frequencies were naturally drawn together. Perhaps the Allspark had formed them to unite, their meeting had been Fate. That was what Nightracer would have told her.

Terabyte took a turn and spun out her rear wheel in agitation. She didn't believe in Fate. Everything had a rational answer. She just didn't know it. Twin sparks were unique and no one really knew how they worked. Arcee's theory was the most plausible she'd heard yet.

* * *

"Your wings are stiff, the connectors are binding, they require fur-"

"You touch my wing-cons and I will tear yours out of your frame." He snarled at the white jet moodily. The gladiator flicked a wing in annoyance; he knew his wing-cons needed oiled and cleaned properly. They needed it pretty desperately but he wasn't whole. His other wasn't here.

As the only other winger in the base, Jetfire was one of the best mechs he could ask, though Bumblebee with his doorwings would also be fully capable of assisting. Terabyte could, but she hadn't exactly been in the best frame of mind of late, and with the combination of her exhaustion and Ratchet's recharge regime, she was in recharge more often than not.

He used to have an other. One he trusted completely. His mirror, his opposite, his self.

The other jet was still talking, trying to persuade him to let someone help his wing-cons' condition, but his thoughts had tuned out the mech's strange, Old Cybertronian accented voice long ago.

Skyquake clutched a clawed servo over his spark suddenly, right in the middle of Jetfire scanning him in continuance of his quartexly check up, startling the massive white shuttle into dropping the scanner. He let out a shrill keen, his razor sharp claws piercing through his armor. His wings pulled back tight as his spark roiled with pain and shock at sensing its other half for the first time in vorns.

Images and memories flooded through his mind and spark, none of them his own. Fears, honor, loneliness, distaste, an intense longing, and pain. So much pain, every day, every memory was filled with that same burning spark pain.

Faceplates he'd never seen before wailed in his memory as their optics flashed brightly for the last time, and explosions and weapon's fire from a thousand battles raged in his audials. Every second that passed seemed to bring the foreign mind closer and the memories and pain and screams grew louder and louder till his mind and spark were deafened by the roar.

He fell off the berth to his knee plates and howled, scraping at his chest-plates and keening until his vocalizers gave out. Soon he fell from his knees also and lay on the floor, his pedes drawn up to his chest, rocking back and forth wailing under the edge of the berth, his spark and sensory systems overwhelmed by the sudden rush through a bond he hadn't felt in vorns and his damaged processors had even forgotten.

His wings were trembling uncontrollably and his optics were wide with the pain and shock flowing through the bond between his spark and its other half. Little did he know that this overwhelming information overload was only a fraction of what it ought to have been. Skyquake's optics blinked, unseeing as he stared forward into the worried faces of the two medics.

Mouth opening and closing again, vents shuddering to pull air through his soon to glitch frame. Somehow his strained vocalizers pushed forth a single, shell-shocked word in *Daiz'pq'rion.

" **Brother?"**

* * *

 ***Daiz'pq'rion – Decepticon dialect (as pronounced by the Decepticons)**


	9. Brotherhood

**The Honor in Duty**

 **Chapter 9**

 **Brotherhood**

* * *

 **Hello my lovely readers! Thank you all so much for reading, I hope you've enjoyed! I've got quite a few really feelsy insights this chapter, so please do give me heaps of feedback, I would love to hear you guys' thoughts, ideas, reactions, speculations, and insights.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own the Transformers, or the TV series _Transformers: Prime._ Nor do I own my amazing sister/beta _enmused:_ or maybe I do *evil laugh* Seriously though, check out her work too, it's awesome! Also, I feel really bad that it's taken me so very long to get it put up on my profile, but she's drawn me fan-art! *squealing* best big sis ever, so check out the links on my profile, or go directly to _the-enmused_ on DeviantArt!**

 ** _Review Responses: To Cashagon: I'm not at all ashamed to admit that my return to this story (and semi-monthly/bimonthly-ish updates from now on hopefully) are almost entirely thanks to your love of my story re-inspiring me. Thank you so very much! And boy, oh boy have I got a lot in mind for our dearest TeraQuake, this road of angsty feels is just beginning, hang on tight!_**

 ** _To AllSparkPrincess:_** ** _Aaaand ready or not, Team Prime, here they come! And a whole lot of feels coming with them too. (And look, look! ASAP came a lot sooner this time, yay!)_**

* * *

 _The stars above twinkled gently in the bright night sky, the three moons close together, mere groons from eclipsing. She grinned up at her sire and bounced up and down on her chubby silver pedes, pointing up at the sky excitedly._

 _A dingbat flew by clumsily, dipping at the last minute and clipping its dented wing on her helm, making the youngling duck and squeal. Her yellow optics were wide as she stared after the dingbat, expecting it to swoop back and attack her again._

 _Bullwing chuckled at his little creation, swooping in and tossing her up into the air to draw a shriek from her. When he caught her, he cradled her in his massive arms and tickled the sensitive plating of her sides. The youngling giggled, curling in on herself squealing for him to stop._

 _She giggled at her sire's face, squinching her own faceplates tight and brushing his nose with hers. "Silly Creator."_

 _The huge jet tickled her some more with his deep rolling laugh, "Silly Creation."_

 _The youngling shrieked a little too loudly and Tetrastar chuckled, "Hush child, you'll wake the neighbors."_

" _Ah, let her be, Tet', she's only a little thing." Bullwing huffed, smiling fondly at their giggling youngling as she now sat cross-peded on the rooftop, gazing up at the moons stars and laughing to herself from time to time._

" _Carrier, sire, if you two don' hushy we'll miss the 'clipses!" She called cheerily, chuckling some more at her creators. Her sire roared with laughter at that little cry, pulling Tetrastar into his side and settling down behind the little femmeling, scooping her into his lap as he did so._

 _The youngling leaned into her sire's warm chest-plates, snuggling into him with an excited giggle as she watched the moons eclipse, turning the sky a brilliant red for a breem before settling into one ruby red orb in the sky._

 _She was running, limping and crying, coolant streaming down her chubby silver faceplates. Her leg hurt so bad, maybe she'd broken it! That would be really bad, but Smokey'd be impressed. The femmeling sniffled and scrubbed at her optics with the back of her hand. Her hands hurt too and the armor was all scratched._

 _Her carrier was gonna kill her. She'd just gotten this set of armor an orn ago._

 _More tears wet her face and she let out a choked little sob. Tetrastar had told her not to swing on that old chain swing she found in the obsidian glade. Why didn't she ever listen to her carrier? Her carrier knew everything. Except how to fix Energon, the little one reminded herself, Bullwing did that much better._

 _Maybe when she got older, she'd know everything too. Like her carrier. Maybe Tetrastar would teach her how to know everything._

 _She scowled for a moment, then sniffled again. Her leg still really hurt. Where was her carrier? She called ages and ages ago, felt like. This was where her carrier was supposed to meet her._

 _Someone came up behind her, pedefalls crunching loud and sudden in the still evening, startling a scream from the youngling. Warm arms wrapped around her and snuggled her, a soft, familiar laugh coming from above her._

" _Hush, sweetspark, it's only me." Tetrastar's gently lilted accent seemed to soothe her hurt with every word, "I didn't mean to startle you, my little one."_

 _The silver youngling leaned back in her carrier's embrace, rubbing her helm against her chassis like the photovoltaic kittens did._

" _Terabyte, what happened?"_

 _Her carrier's voice said she already knew exactly what had happened. Tetrastar was good at that. She had magic carrier knowledge that made her know every time her sparkling did something bad. That was the only explanation._

 _The little one sniffled again, "I-I was playing in the glade a-and I was b-bored cause Smokey didn't co-come today a-a-and I-" She stifled a sob, trying to keep her voice steady as her vents started heaving. Hiccoughing a bit, she finished, "I-I went on the chain and it broke and I fell and carrier, i-i-it hurts!_

 _Tetrastar hushed her gently, her engine crooning at her sparkchild's pain. The jet femme examined her aching pede with a little frown, "You've only sprained it, not broken it. It will hurt for awhile, but it will heal on its own."_

 _She whimpered. Not broken, or easy to fix. She hated waiting._

 _Seeming to read her mind, her carrier smiled reprovingly at her, "Perhaps this will serve as a lesson to you in the future, young one."_

 _She hugged her carrier tightly, pressing her little audials against her carrier's spark, feeling its warmth and strong but gentle pulse._

" _Now let's go home and get you cleaned up, shall we?"_

* * *

 **Previously on the Honor in Duty…**

 **"So he made you one of them, huh?" … "I've had enough of your games, flipping factions and fooling both sides like the traitor you are. You're not a redeemed 'Con and you never will be cause there's no such thing. A 'Con is a 'Con is a slagging 'Con and you'd do good to remember that, femme."**

 **Images and memories flooded through his mind and spark, none of them his own. Fears, honor, loneliness, distaste, an intense longing, and pain. So much pain, every day, every memory was filled with that same burning spark pain.**

" _ **Brother?"**_

* * *

The cliff face loomed toward her, growing nearer and nearer until it seemed as though she was sure to crash, but the two motorcyclists didn't slow their pace. Moments before impact the stone split open to reveal a short tunnel into a massive missile bunker. Home sweet home.

Terabyte transformed with the familiar sound of her t-cog sounding smoother than it had in months. Still a bit ragged, but she was far from complaining. Her processors hurt from trying to puzzle out this strange, unprecedented bond she held with Skyquake and Arcee's theories. It wasn't the first time a bot had assumed that they were bonded. And given the way spark bonds worked, it was highly uncommon for that assumption to be made.

It could hardly be coincidental.

She had never really seen Skyquake in that way, until the recent events since she found him here on Earth. After seven vorns apart, their defection, the turmoil the Decepticons had put her through… She'd come to realize just how much the mech meant to her.

Most bots would now say that they didn't know what they would do without him. But thanks to Soundwave, she knew exactly what she would do without him and it terrified her.

He was her anchor.

Her finials twitched and she realized that there was shouting coming from the main computers. All of her personal thoughts instantly ceased and were filed neatly in the back of her mind to come back to. She cocked her helm and followed Arcee into the chamber.

"-ain why I'm receiving reports of two jumbo-size bots mixing it up by a gas station just outside of Oklahoma?" Agent Fowler's familiar, condescending voice snapped at the Prime.

The little femme's armor bristled at the disrespectful tone towards her Prime.

"Decepticons?" Arcee suggested, glancing at her as she spoke.

Terabyte kept her posture and tone poised with ease. She was well-accustomed to the team's expectation for her to know everything that went on amongst the Decepticons. "There has been much infighting amongst the Decepticons, it would not be unusual for an infaction skirmish to attract attention. They pay no heed to human wellbeing."

"Megatron can't seem to keep his ranks in line." Everyone turned to give Cliffjumper an acknowledging nod as he entered the room, winking at Terabyte, "Which we can all agree has worked out in our favor, with three new recruits."

No one else seemed to notice the disgusted growl that rumbled off of the green Wrecker, or the stifled whine from Bumblebee's engine as he shot the spy a pleading look. She merely shuttered her gold optics briefly in a negative.

The scout was young, and unaccustomed to deceiving those he cared about. She felt an amount of regret at making him withhold things from his family, but her determination remained firm. It would do them all better to live in harmony as best they could. She could handle a little antagonism from the one mech on this team that she could never trust anyway.

"Well, I'm just arriving on the scene now." Fowler's voice stated, drawing everyone's attention back to the holographic monitors with the visual feed from his aircraft. "Have a look."

Bulkhead was the first to speak, "I don't know, paint job aside, it can't be Sk-"

Terabyte cut him off with a sharp intake, "Oh no, Sky…"

All intentions she had of remaining in the main chamber to observe the situation disappeared as she hurried toward the med-bay as fast as she could without running, knowing that that was where he would already have been for his checkups.

He was curled up on the floor beside his berth, helm bent and his hands over his spark, coolant streaking his silver faceplates, huge green wings trembling. The jet was mumbling incoherently, the occasional recognizable word in Daiz'pq'rion touching her audials. Even the Decepticons rarely spoke Daiz'pq'rion save to swear since Cybertron faded, though Skyquake had taught it to her. Everyone spoke Cy-Stan anymore, 'Bots and 'Cons alike.

" **Brother… pain, pain, so much pain… Come?"**

"I do not know what happened, I was simply administering the average quartexly checkup when the fellow shrieked and started writhing and he fell off the berth, but I cannot lift the mech for the life of me when he keeps babbling on and lashing out if I come near him, but the dialect he speaks is fascinating, pray tell is that Dazezik'n? But what is wrong with him? What is going on? Do you know? Lieutenant?" Jetfire looked desperately relieved to see her, his vocalizers not falling silent for even an astrosecond since she stepped through the door but she didn't hear a word he said.

She knelt beside Skyquake and wrapped an arm around him, gently caressing the edge of his wing like a flier's carrier would to sooth him. Her other hand she placed over his much larger hand over his spark, feeling the heat coming from his stressed frame.

Terabyte allowed a soft, comforting hum to sound from her engines as she continued to comfort the mech in silence, knowing that no words would reach him now. His ruby optics were wide, clouded and unseeing as memories both his and not swarmed his mind and spark.

His mumbling ceased suddenly and she vented, thinking that whatever had come over him had passed, "Sky? What's wrong? What happened?"

The gladiator showed no sign of having heard her, standing up abruptly and knocking her to her aft. She didn't think that he had even noticed her presence.

" **I will come, brother."**

" **Skyquake!"** She called after him, switching to Daiz'pq'rion in the hopes of penetrating through his daze, reaching one hand out towards him as though to stop his exit, though his thrusters were already activated. He had not felt his other half for over seven vorns, nothing would stop him now and she knew that. But she had to try. **"Skyquake, stop! Please!"**

He halted for a moment, turning back to look her in the optics, his ruby gaze clearing for the briefest of moments, his tone quizzical, **"My Spark?"**

Just as quickly as the moment came, it passed and he shook his helm gruffly, raising his gun and blasting a hole through the ceiling of the missile silo, watching the dust and rubble crumble down.

" **Sky, wait!"** Terabyte pleaded, coolant beginning to pool in her optics, **"Your family-"**

Her voice was drowned out in the scream of his engines as he tore off through the hole he'd made. She bit back a sob, blinking away the coolant with a growl of frustration at her failure to stop him. Perhaps it was foolish but as she held a hand over her spark she felt that the ceiling wasn't the only hole he'd left.

 _His_ Spark.

He'd called her his Spark.

Surely he hadn't meant it like that? Perhaps her Daiz'pq'rion was not so good as she thought; after all, many words sounded quite similar to the unpracticed listener.

"Your family is here." The femme finished quietly, little more than a whisper.

In less than a klick after Skyquake's dramatic exit, the rest of the Autobots had gathered around to gape up at the patch of sunlight now shining through the ceiling of their supposed secret base. When they had all gotten a good optic-full of the hole, they all turned to stare at her, expecting an explanation.

Optimus regarded her with an unreadable gaze, and his tone was just as much a mystery to her, "Terabyte, for what purpose has Skyquake taken leave of us in such an… abrupt manner?"

She hesitated for a moment to collect herself, her flared armor shifting uncomfortably, "I assume you are all aware of the identity of the mech Agent Fowler reported?" The femme hardly waited for the unanimous nod, "Dreadwing has returned, Skyquake has been summoned by their split spark."

"Is his loyalty certain?" Arcee had never been one for 'beating around the bush' as the humans said.

Terabyte's gold optics held an uncertain waver, and her voice, though steady, was quiet. "I do not know. His loyalty lies with his spark first and foremost. Dreadwing has always been the leading spark."

Cliffjumper scoffed, "Twin-lore, that's all, ole' Jetbrain won't give us up that easy, have a little faith in the mech."

"This is not a matter to be taken lightly, Cliffjumper." Ratchet spoke gravely, the clouded look of being lost in memories in his teal optics, "I know more about twins than all of Cybertron's Golden Age medics ever dreamed. She speaks the truth. If Dreadwing is in fact the dominant spark, Skyquake could be lost to us unless we persuade his brother to join us as well."

"What if his spark chose somebot besides Dreadwing?"

Everyone stared at Arcee with tilted helms and quirked optic ridges.

The old medic shook his helm, "Impossible, twins never give each other up."

Before the older femme could go on, Terabyte cut her off, clearing her vents to catch everyone's attention away from what Arcee was suggesting, "Agent Fowler will be awaiting our arrival, we ought to end this battle as quickly as possible and get all Cybertronians away from human eyes before there are casualties."

Prime nodded in approval, "Terabyte is correct. Ratchet, activate the groundbridge."

In less than a klick, Optimus had gathered Terabyte, Cliffjumper, and Bulkhead through the green, white, and purple hued portal. The spy briefly seized up the area and situation with a preliminary scan, masked lip-plates turning downwards in distaste as she recognized the second bot in the battle was Wheeljack.

What was the Wrecker doing back again?

And why had he brought Dreadwing with him?

Earth was a heavily inhabited planet, any bot in their right processors would know better than to bring their battles to such a planet. Though it did not surprise her; the Wreckers never had cared much about collateral damage.

On the positive, Skyquake had not yet arrived. She commed the team, /It would be best if we could see that the fighting is over before Skyquake arrives. The strength of a renewed bond after such time apart could very well lead him to turn against us against his choosing./

"'Against his choosing'." Bulkhead scoffed quietly behind her, "We all know he'd love to scrap each and every one of us if he had the chance."

She didn't even deem him worthy of a glare.

/Those were my thoughts as well, Terabyte./ Optimus agreed, leading the charge on Dreadwing, guns blazing.

Just as she was coming into and effective range, she watched Dreadwing kick the Wrecker's abdomen, then unleash a hail of Energon pellets on him from his machine gun. Wheeljack fell back with a grunt and Terabyte dashed into the battle, firing her cannon as she ran towards the navy and gold jet, striking his cockpit and cracking the plexiglass with the force.

She unsheathed her golden Energon blade with a shink and slid between the roaring jet's pedes, slicing at the back of his knee before rising to glare at the twin of her Sky.

The little femme sneered at him, "Dreadwing."

"Terabyte." He replied, crouching slightly to balance his weight with the machine gun. The jet grinned at her, "I see you finally betrayed us."

Terabyte growled, but kept up the banter as Bulkhead took the distraction as an opportunity to get Wheeljack back on his pedes. "I see you finally remembered the War did not end. Missing in action for three vorns?"

Now was his turn to growl, but rather than defending his absence, the mech merely charged her, swinging a massive, spiked fist towards her spark. She ducked easily beneath the obvious attack, stabbing the mech in the thigh as she rose and nodding in satisfaction as he hissed, life-En oozing from the gash.

"Got a bit slow in your leave of absence, it would seem." She commented, acting as though they were in one of the sparring sessions they occasionally had.

She dodged another blow with a roll, putting enough distance between her and the mech to fire her cannon again, hitting him in the shoulder this time. The two-wheeler bit back a cry as that same distance allowed Dreadwing to unleash his massive, two-handed gun in her direction, spraying her frame with the small Energon pellets, one of which plunged itself into her face-plates, dangerously close to her optic.

Transforming, the femme sped off, back towards the Prime, putting distance between herself and Dreadwing, allowing the rest of the team to open fire. A wince tightened over her faceplates as she flipped back into her bipedal mode, the pellet holes still smoking slightly as she added her cannon-shots to her team's.

Not long after her short retreat, Dreadwing too transformed and jetted off, staying close to the ground. As he passed near the gas station, Optimus ordered a cease-fire, but Wheeljack continued his pursuit, firing sloppily in the jet's direction.

"Jackie, no!" Bulkhead shouted after him.

/If a single spark from those shots touches the fuel station, it will…/ Terabyte paused in her unheeded warning as the gas station erupted in a fiery cloud of smoke and debris, the shockwave leaving her finials ringing. Smoke and flames billowed high over the wreckage.

/… do that./ She finished dryly, glaring at the white, green, and red Wrecker.

Wheeljack shrugged as the rest of the team caught up to him, the whole party's EM fields radiating displeasure. "Dreadwing rigged the place to blow."

Cliffjumper cocked an optic ridge at the mech, "Dread? That was all your handiwork, mech."

"It's called a gas station." Bulkhead informed him, "Kinda like an Energon depot. Doesn't mix well with blaster fire."

The other mech just grunted, shrugging again, "Well our 'Con's getting away."

"There are other considerations, Wheeljack." Optimus said solemnly, his rich baritone sounding more annoyed than Terabyte had ever heard it. "While upon this world, you would do well to follow my lead."

* * *

 **Forest, Location unknown**

Brother.

His brother was here. On Earth. In this forest. To be precise, his brother was standing a few meters away from him, watching him with mirrored expression and gaze. For the first time in his life, Skyquake understood why many found the idea of staring into one's twin's face disturbing, it was like looking into a mirror at a reflection you couldn't control.

The two jets stood, statuesque, making no contact, physical or mental, neither saying a word. Seven vorns was a very long time for a spark's halves to be isolated from each other.

Skyquake flicked a wing. Terabyte's pleading cry for him, in his own mother tongue even, still rang in his audials, her coolant-dampened gold optics clear in his mind's optic. His brother had been holding the bond closed for vorns, even before he left. They had grown distant, comrades, good partners, and yet detached. Comrades and nothing more. That was what Megatron had always wanted for his protégés, he had never wanted twin gladiators, he had wanted two separate warriors.

As he probed the old, unused sparkbond, Skyquake wondered if he hadn't already gotten what he wanted.

"Leave it."

He flinched from the disgusted snarl coming from his own spark brother. Dreadwing sneered at him, "You too wear their cursed sigil? You left our duty, our cause, our master? All for the femme."

Green wings flicked, but his expression remained stoic. "And what is our cause but a sea of the lifeblood of our own people because of millennia past sins, committed by the offlined rulers of a dead world?"

"And you would throw away eighty vorns of honor and loyalty to Megatronus, to Lord Megatron, for a femme who's not even lived for thirty?"

Skyquake felt his words cut to his very spark. Cybertronians did not see age as organic races did; when a being was practically immortal, what was a few decavorns? However, she was a war-born, of neutral descent or not. For a long time she had seen him as a mentor and friend. What did she see him as now? She'd only hardly had her last sparking day.

On a Golden Age Cybertron, she would still be learning to walk again in her adult frame.

However, that did nothing to change the fact that she had worn an adult frame for over a decavorn now. She was a full-grown by all rights and had been for vorns, Dreadwing was a fool to think that would change anything in his spark. He had known it ever since her very first assignment to the field, when he realized that he would move heaven and earth to make sure that that tiny femme would always come back.

Terabyte was his One.

 _There was a time when I was enough for you._

Large gray hand jerked up to scratch over his spark at the sudden voice through the bond. Pulses of betrayal and anger shook him, threatening to knock him to his knees.

 _When did you choose her? When did_ _ **she**_ _take my place as your other half? We were inseparable, two, yet one spark, brothers in arms, we would bring honor to our people. Glory to our names, power to our race._ Dreadwing had stepped closer to his twin, his EM field and sparklink both roaring with raw pain. _Does your own half-spark not break at your betrayal? Have I not always had your back and spark?_

Skyquake refused to use the bond that Dreadwing himself for so long had kept sealed and distant from him. He had always been the one who went to the twin-bond for reassurance, comfort, a reprieve from the carnage of the Pits, and later of the War. He had always gone to Dreadwing.

He had never been the strong one. Megatron had never wanted him, he was just part of the package.

"No." He said quietly, deliberately funnelling the memories of his turmoil, his spark-ache, his rage, the feral memories of the quartex at a time that his other half would walk the halls of their base and fuel in the same chamber, yet be so far away, Dreadwing's simultaneous nearness and distance driving him clinically insane. A madness of spark rather than processor, orns at a time being completely alone in the darkness of the empty bond, lost in the abyss between them that only his twin held the bridge to.

A single drop of coolant slid down his twin's gold faceplates.

"'Quake…" The navy jet whispered, "I never meant-"

"You never meant to break our spark?" He spat, "All for what? The approval of a power-starved madmech and your own selfishness."

Dreadwing reached a futile hand out to his brother, meaning to touch his two front fingers to his chest to feel the pulse of his other half, as they had always done in hard times to remind themselves that they were still alive, whole, and together. Skyquake swatted the hand aside.

"I know who spoke 'on my behalf' to Megatron that cycle." He hardly raised his voice over a low, angry whisper, "You suggested he send me to this mudball all those vorns ago. That I could not control my anger. Imbalanced, insubordinate, and unpredictable."

The other mech's expression turned unreadable, but his mirror ruby optics were wide with shock. Ironic that after so many vorns of blocking him out, his twin could now no longer.

"You made the choice first, Dreadwing." Skyquake turned his back to his twin, his spark aching, but it was an old ache; an ache that he had come to accept and heal from. "I am merely choosing to stand by the one bot who has always been here for me when I most needed help. As my twin, I always thought that bot would be you."

 _You always did think I was wrong though._ He smiled wryly at the sad thought that he allowed to drift through the bond that would have been better off to have stayed shut. _Goodbye… Brother._

* * *

 **A Year Ago: Outer Space**

 _Explosions rang through his audials. Smoke filled his blurred vision. He could hear medical tools, but he didn't feel damaged. Odd. A dark, fuzzy silhouette stood over him, EM field strangely comforting, though he couldn't quite place why the figure was familiar._

 _Sleep seemed to pour into him from own power-lines…_

He bolted upright with a gasp, looking about him hastily, vents heaving. Iacon was under attack! He had to defend the old mech!

Wait.

This wasn't Iacon.

Smokescreen rubbed a hand over his helm and groaned. A Decepticon brig. Some grand defender he'd been.

The white and blue Praxian fluttered his wings for a klick, listening, scanning, and sensing with all his might, just like Alpha Trion had trained him. A constant hum in the air was distracting him though, continually droning, vibrating beneath him and all around him.

A ship?

"Either that or there's some 'Con oaf 'charging outside, snoring up a solar storm." He rolled his optics. He was beginning to regret not paying attention to the bearded magenta geezer. At least he'd be able to tell where he was if he had.

He was just about to give up and flop back down on the hard brig berth when he picked up very faint pedefalls, from quite far away still. Down the hall a good ways probably from the sounds of it. Smokescreen whistled, must be a massive ship to have halls that could carry sound like that.

"…on, Sixshot, he may be like us! 'Sides, the Captain asked us to let her know if he woke up. Can't exactly do that if we don't check on him, can we?"

A grunt.

The bubbly femme voice had said Sixshot. Sixshot. As in, _the_ Sixshot? As in, the six-forming freak of nature that was a one bot army that could destroy whole planets single-handedly?

"Scrap."

A beige and orange little femme whirled in on wheeled pedes, a bright smile on her face, ornamental audial attachments swinging gaily on the sides of her helm. Beside her stood the biggest mech Smokescreen had ever seen, covered in more weapons than the Elite Guard's armoury. He shuddered to think what else the war machine would have in his subspace.

"Whaddya know? He's up!" She rolled up close to the force field holding him in, waving her servo at him kindly, "How d'ya like some Energon to wake ya up the rest of the way, Smokey?"

To his surprise, the little femme pulled down the field and gestured for him to follow them. He supposed they didn't see him as a threat. Why would they with Sixshot on their side? He smirked faintly. Well, they may have the best war mech in the universe, but underestimating him would be a mistake. He would just have to figure out where the escape pods were, then give these 'Cons the slip.

They wouldn't know what hit them.

He puffed up his chest with confidence, sauntering out of the cell like he owned the place, shaking the femme's hand, "I'm Smokescreen."

Memory nagged him a little bit that she'd already called him Smokey, meaning they already knew who he was, but he brushed it aside. How would they know him? He must've imagined it.

Following them through the ship, the femme, Lickety-Split she'd called herself, was content to talk constantly, telling him what every room they passed was, giving him a fairly good mental map of the ship, which from what he could tell was as big as any Decepticon warship. There could be a thousand bots housed in here for all he knew.

She kept talking about this Captain, how as soon as he met the Captain, she'd explain everything. Including how he would 'fit into things'. Smokescreen didn't like the sound of that at all. It would probably be best if he never had the misfortune of meeting this Captain 'Racer. He'd just have to get out of here before they took him to her then.

Possibly a thousand Decepticons, including Sixshot, in a ship the size of a small city, all of whom no doubt wanted to torture him for information or just kill him for kicks.

Shouldn't be so hard, right?

* * *

 ***Ahtzobahts: The dialect of the Autobots. (As pronounced by Decepticons)**

 ***Cy-Stan/Cyber-Standard: Cybertronian Standard. Universal language on the planet Cybertron.**

 ***Dazezik'n: The dialect of the Decepticons. (As pronounced by Autobots)**

 ***Daiz'pq'rion: The dialect of the Decepticons. (As pronounced by Decepticons)**


	10. Old Bonds

**The Honor in Duty**

 **Chapter 10**

 **Old Bonds**

* * *

 **Hey everyone, here we are with the next chapter. I can't begin to thank you all enough for your loyal reading and reviewing! You really do keep me going. Hope you all enjoy!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers, or the Transformers: Prime TV series. Also huge thanks to my number one fan and beta, my sister enmused, check out her stories!**

 **Review Responses: _Cashagon:_ _Ahhh, yes, Smokey is a blast to write, even as rarely as he comes around, but boy can he be dumb. Not that we can really blame him, he is younger than Terabyte even. (Which I'll get around to going more into later obviously ((no spoilers))) Also, since you do keep an eye on RTN, I'll have you know I'm planning on continuing it sometime in the hopefully near future, RL providing, but I'll probably just repost it at this point, maybe a few typos fixed but nothing major, just to get it around again, maybe bump the rating up for violence. Anywho, hope you enjoy this next chapter!_**

 ** _AllSpark_** ** _Princess:_** ** _Lol, but when does anything much good come to Team Prime nowadays, right? Not to fear, I try to keep a pretty good balance of light and dark, hopefully I'm successful. Anywho, here's the next chapter, hope you enjoy it!_**

 ** _redlinevcr:_** ** _Well, unfortunately, trying to space out Smokey's adventures a little bit, you'll just have to sit in suspense for another chapter or two, but don't worry, we'll come back to him in a bit! In the meantime... Here's TB!_**

 ** _horseg27:_** ** _A new reader! Yay! *happy dances and victory cheers* Welcome aboard the rollercoaster of TB's journey! I have literally been waiting three years to get to their reunion, and we're still a decent-ish ways off, but ahhhh so looking forward to it. And ol' Magnus too. So of course, heaps of drama to come, but hopefully the drama's still within the realm of being realistic lol. Great to see a new reader caught up! (though I know as a reader it always seems so sad to have to wait for updates after being used to having fifty plus chapters in reserve)_**

* * *

 _The capital building of Kolkular was hideous. Everyone knew that. But she found that there was cozy perc_ _h on the very edge of the mushroom that had an amazing view of the surrounding area at sunset._

 _A cool, sulfurous breeze played on her armor, whistling through her finials softly. Warmth and light glowed up from the magma circumscribing the citadel boundary, while the ruby glow of the suns danced on the purplish black horizon. The scarred land was beautiful in its own way, showing the strength of its people in the glittering lights of thousands of homes interspersed among the rifts in the planet's surface._

 _From a few of those jagged tears shone a brilliant, Energon-blue glow from the core of their world._

 _She swung her pedes over the edge, swishing them through the open air like a sparkling on too tall a chair. Behind her mask the little femme smiled faintly._

 _Skyquake would have loved this spot._

" _Green jet, red accents?"_

 _She snapped her helm around to glare at the gray mech, bios and visor glowing scarlet in the dark. It never ceased to irk her that the mech could somehow sneak up on her every time. She was the best comms and intel bot in the entire Decepticon army, with specially trained audials. Were she wont to pride, she'd consider herself a rival to even Soundwave._

 _Yet Meister, a common, ordinary grunt, always startled her._

" _Pardon?"_

" _Said something about a Skyquake. I'nt he the green Pits-mech? Expected him to be 'round here, with the rest of the elite."_

 _The two-wheeler nodded slowly, most bots had heard of the twin commanders. Their prowess in the Pits, and in battle, was renowned. "He was recently transferred."_

 _Meister sat down beside her, a respectful distance from her, his visored expression difficult to read. "Off-world?"_

 _She hummed in affirmative, frowning minutely, "How did you guess?"_

 _The dark mech glanced at her, a sort of understanding in his gaze. He gave an indifferent shrug, "Way you talk about him. Figured he was either off-world or in the Well. You turn empty when you speak his name. Felt loss enough to recognize it."_

 _The two sat in a slightly awkward, but companionable silence, staring out at the glimmering lights scattered over the land._

 _At long last she sighed, "What brought you to the Decepticons, Meister?"_

 _He flinched at the question, but the action escaped the femme's notice, her processors still half lost in her thoughts. She turned to regard him with a curious warmth in her gold optics and Meister realized with a start that the femme had come to see him as a genuine friend. He decided to tell her the truth, as close to it as he could without compromising himself._

' _Scrap,' Jazz thought, his spark churning with conflicting feelings. This little femme was not the same femme that he had hated so much and blamed for Prowl's death. This femme was a youngling, lost and alone on the wrong side of the War. 'She's a means ta an end, ya can't feel for her, mech, get it together.'_

" _Had a personal mission of sorts." He said shortly, watching the soft blue lights dance over the chasms from which they shone._

" _A vendetta?" She questioned._

 _The dark mech gave a noncommittal grunt, "You?"_

 _The two-wheeler stared up at the starless sky, squinting minutely as though in search of something in particular, then turned her gaze to her idly swinging pedes. "Also a vendetta I suppose. The Autobots destroyed my home city, Protihex. The survivors were… fewer than those of Praxus. I swore to my family that I would avenge them."_

 _Meister stayed quiet for a long time, before shifting uncomfortably, "You know who you're after?"_

 _Her engine growled and her tone was colder, darker, more hate-filled than he'd ever heard a bot sound. "The Wreckers._ _ **All**_ _of them."_

"Ow! Take it easy, Doc, I need that arm."

The smaller of the two femmes standing on either side of Cliffjumper smiled behind her navy mask at the Wrecker's pain, knowing just how unpleasant the medic could be when annoyed. Cliffjumper had an arm casually looped around Arcee's slight shoulders, which brought an entirely different smirk to Terabyte's hidden features.

Inexplicable spark connection or no, she wasn't the only one with attachments.

The other femme noticed her silently laughing gaze and shrugged the red mech off, rolling her optics at him, making him grin innocently at her, "What? Was worth a shot."

Ratchet's growled reply returned their attentions to the Wrecker, "Hold still and maybe you'll keep it."

"But I tracked Dreadwing across-"

Arcee leaned one pede, hand on her hip, other hand waving to gesture at the tri-colored mech, "I thought you were roving the galaxy? You know, looking for Autobot refugees?"

Seated on the floor and leaning on the wall near where Wheeljack sat, Bumblebee hummed in agreeing doubt of the mech's story.

"I _was,_ until I found one; a Wrecker." Of course it was yet another one of his kind.

"Who?" Terabyte and Bulkhead both asked, one voice hiding a well of anger, the other eager. The two bots glared at each other for a moment before Wheeljack grunted.

"Seaspray."

Bulkhead clapped his hands together and leaned forward excitedly, chuckling, "How is old barnacle-butt?"

"Not so good, Bulk."

Gold optics narrowing, engine holding back a snarl, she demanded, "Does he yet live?"

Seaspray had been in her apartment complex. He had known what would happen to Protihex. She'd been there, she'd heard him take his orders from Ultra Magnus. She could still see his optics and hear his warbling voice as he had lain beneath her blade, staring into her optics and trying to tell her that her memories of Protihex's destruction were a misunderstanding.

In spite of both Wrecker's sharp gazes in her direction, Wheeljack bit out, "Blown to bits actually. What's the ex-Con care?"

Terabyte was deaf to Bulkhead's exclamation of disbelief and the other Autobots' hard intakes. The repressed growl worked its way up through her chest, loud in the echo-prone main chamber of the base, her flared armor trembling with rage.

"Who. Killed. Him." She snarled, fists clenching tightly.

"Dreadwing."

Wheeljack went on to describe the details of the story, but they were lost on the livid femme. She stormed out of the chamber and down the hall, having enough sense to remove herself from audial range before howling in fury.

Fists collided with the concrete wall with a resounding thud that echoed through the hall with her scream. A red figure approached in her vision and she whirled, slamming her fist into the mech's block ready palm with the same force that had cracked the stone wall. He skidded back a step from the impact.

"It should have been me!"

Cliffjumper frowned, her words not making any sense to him. He shook out his stinging hand and stepped towards her again, hands raised in both defense and placation. The red mech knew her well enough not to speak just yet.

"He was _mine_." She roared, storming to the training room where she could break things that were designed to be broken. The front-liner followed her with long strides, his spare-parts pede scratching the ground with its oblong foot. "I should have killed him that day outside of Iacon. I should have killed him when I had the chance."

The training room's doors hissed open and she drew her cannon, making short work of the targets, and scorching the whole wall behind them black with her barrage.

Cliffjumper merely watched for the whole breem until she stopped firing, making no comment on the waste of energy. Finally he spoke, "How did you know Seaspray?"

"How did I know him?" Terabyte laughed coldly, moving over to the corner to begin striking and kicking at the woven titanium cylinder swinging from the ceiling like the humans' punching bags with vicious ferocity. "He was at Protihex."

She swung a few punches and a round-house kick into the bag, slamming base of her wrist into the bag to stop its swinging for a moment. "I was a youngling, newly upgraded to my second frame. I met him on the way to an elderly femme's apartment to look after her sapphires."

Her vents were coming heavier, but she didn't stop. "I had no way of knowing he was setting explosive charges in a _neutral, civilian_ _ **apartment complex**_. I later learned that the Wreckers' only target was two seeker trines. The rest of the city, like all Wrecker missions, was _collateral damage_ that no bot ever _cared_ enough to consider."

A particularly powerful kick snapped the chains holding the punching bag up and it flew across the room, smashing into the wall with a clang.

Terabyte allowed Cliffjumper to put a comforting hand on her shoulder and lead her to the benches along the wall beside the door. "You do know the Wreckers never intended to blow the city, right?"

"So the records say." She spat. She wouldn't believe those records till she had proof, and short of letting her tear apart the mind of a Wrecker that had been on the mission she wasn't likely to ever get any.

Especially since three of the five mechs present were confirmed dead and one had been MIA for a decavorn and was assumed dead. They were supposed to be hers, all of them. Only two of the five had perished at her hands. Though she had taken a fair number of other Autobots down in her time as a Decepticon.

Cliffjumper looked down at his lap, the sharp change in his EM field indicating that she'd spoken all of that aloud without realizing it. "Who were they?"

"Ultra Magnus, Seaspray, Pyro, Twintwist, and Rack'n'Ruin. I offed Pyro at the Battle of the Three Moons, and Twintwist on the Nemesis in a Wrecker sabotage attempt." She shuddered at the memories, feeling the same cold, icy hatred burning in her spark that had spurred her on to ending them. "I suppose the Decepticons trained and raised me well. Wreckers don't fall easy. I am lucky. I shudder to think how many sparks I would have taken had I not been removed from field duty early in my Decepticon career."

The little two-wheeler's armor lay flat on her protoform, leaving her looking so small and vulnerable it was difficult to imagine such a femme hurting anyone.

"I hate war." She sighed heavily, the action echoed by the red mech beside her. "It makes monsters of us all in the end."

"You'd think Megatron would have grown weary of his quest for an empire after eight decavorns of spilling the life-En of his brethren. Primus must be weeping that the fate of his children should be the same as that of his own people before us."

She cocked her helm at Cliffjumper's words, wondering at his belief of Primus. He did not seem to view Primus as either a god or an inanimate energy core, as were the two beliefs that she had heard.

"But you and Skyquake have proven that the War can end." Cliffjumper smiled at her gently, "One side slaughtering the other into extinction isn't our only solution now. Any bot can change for the better."

"Speaking of Sky… we need to bring him back before Dreadwing changes him for the worse."

The red mech nodded in agreement, standing up and helping her to her pedes. "After you fuel, wash, and recharge for the night."

"But what if-"

She welcomed Cliffjumper's hug in response, grateful to see that his trust of her had in fact returned fully. Terabyte allowed herself to relax her frame completely as the front-liner rubbed her back soothingly. "Don't worry, TB. Skyquake can take care of himself, and he'll scrap me if I don't make sure you take care of yourself too."

* * *

 **Next Morning**

"Hey, Short Stuff! Wrong way, Ratchet's doohickey says Jetbrain's this way."

She cocked an optic ridge at the red mech, but shook her helm. She wasn't entirely sure why Optimus had approved her request to search for Skyquake. Nor was she sure why the Prime had insisted on tracking down Bulkhead and Wheeljack on his own.

The two Wreckers had left just a few groons after Wheeljack had told his story of his vengeance quest. Shortly after that, Optimus had elected to go after them alone, in spite of the whole team's objections.

Terabyte held up a servo to signal the other mech to halt for a moment.

Cliffjumper looked at her inquiringly, "What's up? You hear something?"

Behind her mask the femme's lips twitched upward in a fleeting smirk at his acknowledgement of her superior audial range. Yet she shook her helm, wondering for a moment if she should voice her thoughts before making her decision. "I sense something unusual… It is difficult to explain, nor have I found any success in rationalizing it with known fact. I do not believe that Ratchet's tracking device is accurate."

He rattled the device, then inspected the readout, holding it upside down. He grunted as if he couldn't understand it, a twinkle in his optics indicating that he was just messing around, "What makes you think that? D'ya think I'm reading it wrong?"

Gold optics stared back at him flatly, unamused.

"I feel it in my spark that Skyquake is this way. The tracker is wrong."

At these words, the red mech didn't turn wholly serious, but it was clear that he was paying close attention, "You feel it in your spark? Thought it was 'too unreliable to pay heed in any matter of consequence'?"

She sighed at her grinning friend, recognizing his mockery of her own words, yet she was too worried about Skyquake to make any sort of a snarky remark in return. She had been right. Her processors were always more trustworthy than her spark, and her facts and science than feelings and theories. There was no proof or evidence for this decision. Maybe they ought to follow the tracker after all.

Terabyte sat down on a massive fallen tree, long since stripped bare of leaves and branches, looking around at the huge swath of northern California forest where the tracker had led them thus far. They were on a slight incline, as most of this part of the state was, as the forest climbed up to meet mountain peaks. The trees were all evergreen, and their needles and cones blanketed the ground, muffling their steps.

The tracker was leading them down the slope, towards the plains, that eventually would meet up with the ocean far, far off. Her spark however, drew her upwards, towards the mountain's snowy peak.

Another doubt that she refused to voice was the concern that perhaps the draw upwards was her thirst for the sky and not for Sky like she thought.

"There is a faint draw on my spark that pulls me in this direction, upwards to the mountain peak." She looked down, refusing to meet Cliffjumper's gaze lest she find herself faced with derision, "It's Skyquake."

The confidence with which she made that final statement surprised her, but she still refused to look up at Cliffjumper, even when he spoke, "Like… like a mentor/apprentice bond, right?"

It was plain by his tone that he was highly skeptical of that. He had seen Skyquake around Terabyte and he knew mechs well enough to see that their relationship was far from platonic.

"No, I've had a mentor bond before, and I've had one broken, so I feel it acutely in my spark. This is different."

He rested a hand on her shoulder, sitting down beside her on the stump and venting heavily. For a moment the mech said nothing as he mulled over what she was implying. Arcee's many comments clicked into place in his processor, matched with Terabyte's deflections. He thought back to watching the two bots, of such completely different builds and functions, sparring with an uncanny grace.

At the time, he'd said it was as if they _knew_ what the other was going to do before doing it. Like a sort of psychic link.

Cliffjumper shook his helm slightly. He'd never thought he could have actually been right. "I know you two aren't bonded, but even you can't deny that it seems like it."

She looked up at him, meeting his sky blue optics and finding only perplexion and trust in his gaze. Terabyte allowed herself to attempt a smile in return, eliciting a grin in return.

"I'm sure Doc and 'Fire'll have this all figured out in no time." She didn't interrupt the mech's optimism to point out that Arcee and he were the only other ones to know about this strange development. He went on, "For right now though, let's follow your spark and see where it takes us."

"Just like that?" The femme scowled, standing up and glaring at the red frontliner, "No skepticism, questioning, accusations? You are simply going to support me fully and 'follow my spark'."

"I trust you."

" _Sure, I trust you… I trust you to keep betraying us, no matter how many times I put my spark on the line for you, you'll just keep blowing your chances."_

A shoulder wheel rolled in agitation, the only sign that those words had made her even more defensive. She nodded curtly and started marching up the slope, following the unexplained pull of her spark, leaving the red mech to chase after her, a bit hurt and confused.

"TB, wait up! What's wrong?"

Glancing back at him, she saw that the mech truly had no idea what was wrong. What she would give to so easily forget conflict. It was likely the only way the mech managed to stay in a fair mood so much, he had developed a knack for tucking unpleasant memories out of sight and mind.

Cliffjumper caught up and walked beside her, easily matching her quick stride at a leisurely stroll. "Here I am trying to be encouraging, and you storm off like me trusting you makes you angry? C'mon, TB, what's up?"

"I do not appreciate encouragement in the form of deception." Terabyte replied stiffly, not slowing her pace. If anything, she marched on faster. "My life has been nothing but lies, both from others and my own. I grow weary of this cycle of feigned faith followed by betrayals of trust that never was."

The red mech halted for a klick, as though she'd punched him, then caught back up again, dodging trees as the dense forest made walking side by side more difficult. He was bent over slightly now to avoid the low hanging branches that she walked under with an easy foot of space to spare.

"I'm not lying, TB."

She gave a derisive snort and kept walking.

"Would you just stop and listen for a klick?" Cliffjumper finally snapped, hitting his helm on a large branch and snarling at the tree as it rained pinecones and dry needles down on him.

Terabyte did as requested and turned around to stare up at him with a flat expression in her optics, her mask raised and armor flared as she stood to attention as though following orders. Though she was technically of higher rank than him since the Blitzwing incident.

"TB… Terabyte… This is because of what I said, isn't it? Couple quartex ago?"

She remained impassive, choosing to ignore the question since it was obvious to both of them that he was right.

"I really am so sorry." Cliffjumper took as step towards her, reaching out as if to touch her shoulder, but stopped short when he met her flat stare. "We were all going through a lot just then, and we'd just come through a lot, and then there was all the slag that came after…"

He trailed off and she huffed in dry amusement, "That's your excuse? Guess what mech, you and I both know just as well as anyone, life is slag, all the time."

The red mech opened his mouth as if to object then frowned and looked down. After a moment he tried again, "Alright, you know what? You're right, that's not a reason to have said the things that I did, and I'll be honest, when I said that I meant it, TB, I was scared. You didn't see or hear yourself the way we saw you after Soundwave messed with your processors. You were so angry, and you're a skilled warrior, but you don't show that side of yourself because you're a good bot."

"But when he messed with your helm, the Terabyte I've come to know and love as a sister, she was gone. With your processor, your skills, and your anger… You could've gone up against Megatron and won."

Terabyte glanced off to the side, staring out at a curious squirrel in the branches of a nearby tree, rubbing its little paws together and tilting its furry helm at them. Calculations and numbers, variables, scrolled through her mind, weighing out the possible scenarios of her battling Megatron. It seemed highly unlikely.

A thought brushed her mind and she factored in a total disregard of any ethical restrictions that would hold her battle potential back. Ethical restrictions she'd only lost sight of twice in her life: when she killed Pyro, and when she'd killed Twintwist. Wreckers.

The resulting probability sent her processors reeling. There were, granted, an infinite number of scenarios, each one having varying results, as previous experience battling Megatron had proven, she'd rarely gotten out of a skirmish with the warlord and not needed several orns of recovery time after the fact. And granted, most of the scenarios in which she stood a chance of success ended in her death as well. But the very fact that there was a chance terrified her.

And made it very understandable for Cliffjumper to have been terrified of her.

Cliffjumper went on, oblivious to the calculations and revelations stirring in the small femme's mind, "When you pointed that cannon at my spark, the cavern radiating scarlet, and those deep, blood red optics met mine, I wasn't thinking straight, my mind wasn't there, with the Terabyte I know and trust, my mind went straight back to seeing you like that, murderously, sparklessly angry. So I reacted. I said a bunch of stuff that hurt you deeply, that I can't take back. And I'm sorry."

She cocked her helm at him. It was clear that he was getting desperate. Her mask was up, her optics were blank, he couldn't read her at all. He wasn't even sure she had heard him.

Prussian blue mask slid down to reveal her elven features, her lips lilted in a faint smile. She turned her hands so her palms were facing the mech to signify her acceptance of his explanation.

"I forgive-" Terabyte's vocalizer cut off in surprise as she found herself crushed in the red frontliner's embrace. Her frame held stiff and awkward, the femme struggled for a moment to find her voice again, "It was merely a gesture, not an invitation to be hugged to a pulp, Cliff."

He dropped her instantly, not having realized he'd lifted her right off her pedes in his enthusiasm, his silver face looking for all the world like he was about to apologize yet again.

She shook her helm, laughing, "Come on, mech, let's go get Sky."

* * *

He looked out over the world from his high perch, a small part of him that wasn't numb marveling at the wide view of the country. From this height, he could see the whole evergreen forest sprawling out down the mountainside and into a valley, the dark trees tapering out like the tip of an arrow piercing a flowering meadow, the soft spring breeze from it caressing his wings.

In front of him, where his narrowed optics were trained, the forest was cut harshly to an end by a smoke-stained railway, on the other side of which lay what must have been a mile or two of steel containers, some stacked four or five high, scattered on the bleak, concrete wharf. Beyond that lay the gray ocean, seeming dismal, as though it regretted touching the humans' monstrosity.

What the green jet standing tall on the precipice was watching so intently was the four Cybertronians in the middle of battle. Bulkhead and Wheeljack were standing off to the side, seemingly arguing, one of Dreadwing's classic bombs strapped to the olive Wrecker's chest-plates.

Further along the dock, his foolish twin was engaging Optimus. The latter was mainly dodging and avoiding the jet's attacks, likely attempting to persuade him to become an Autobot. Appealing to his twin the way he had appealed to Skyquake before his scout ambushed him and tore out his processing unit.

More than one way to recruit a mech, he supposed.

But he had joined them for Terabyte anyway. Just like he had once joined the Decepticons to be with his brother. Just like he had stayed with the Decepticons for his brother, in spite of how he grew weary of being the renowned and feared war machine that the Pits had made of him.

When Dreadwing heeded Megatron's wishes to separate them, to distance himself from his own spark, Skyquake had been left drifting, sanity ebbing away like the color from a dead mech's frame. Terabyte restored him, and he reattached his loyalty and duty to her. He had always been a duty-bound mech, but his duty was never as most would expect, particularly of a Pits' mech like himself.

His duty was to those he loved.

There was a time when that duty was to his twin. There was another time that that duty was to Megatron, his mentor and master. Now it was to her, but it had begun to encompass the Autobots as a whole as well. Even the red glitch was growing on him.

Skyquake vented heavily, feeling a twinge of a second anger in his spark, beneath his own dark rage directed toward his twin's pressing, yet repressed, spark. He almost didn't notice it, so similar a feeling it was to his own, betrayal, anger, a feeling of not belonging. But he did notice it nonetheless, for he had trained himself over the vorns to listen very closely to the faint, ephemeral touches of this other spark.

Her spark, a ghost of it at least.

It wasn't something he could quite explain, but it had been growing significantly stronger ever since he had awoken from Ratchet's processor operation. Something had happened in his spark. A twin spark, placed under the continual stress of being cut off from its other half, placed under further strain of a near-death encounter directly after being pulled from stasis… Who could have predicted how it would react?

He growled at the negativity he sensed ever-so-briefly from her. He only ever felt her spark when her feelings were especially powerful, sharp enough to pierce through the thick veil between them. A veil he hoped to one day eliminate completely by bonding with her.

The jet flicked a wing, brushing aside that line of thought. The middle of war was not the time for it, nor was she ready. She was far from ready, though she was finally beginning to realize just how he cared for her. He could wait. He had waited twelve vorns, and she was worth waiting twelve thousand more if any of them lived that long.

His wings flicked again, sensing an approaching presence. He stiffened, ready to draw his weapons from subspace at a moment's notice. Another moment later and he relaxed, not moving his gaze from the battle going on far below them. His expression didn't change as the Autobots dropped a massive magnet crane down on his twin.

Bulkhead and Wheeljack's shared looks of apprehension seemed to indicate that the timer was getting close to detonation.

A crack of a twig beneath a pede drew his attention to the edge of the forest, his gaze greeted by the sight of Cliffjumper cringing at his own loudness. A sigh of exasperation at his shoulder made Skyquake flinch internally, startled.

"I will never understand how you manage to do that, femme." He chuckled, smiling half-sparkedly down at her, wrapping an arm around her shoulder, more to reassure himself of her presence than anything else. "My wings ought to sense you from a mile away at _least_ , and yet, you manage to elude and even startle me."

She returned his smile warmly, with a touch of concern in her optics. "Have you spoken with your brother?"

His lips curled in distaste, the anger in his spark deepening. "He is no brother of mine."

"Sky…"

Skyquake scowled, wings pulling down and tight. He had known for vorns that Dreadwing and Terabyte had no fondness for each other, an unspoken rivalry between them. "For two decavorns I have fought to keep him as he gradually dampened our bond and left for quartex at a time and blocked me from his spark. Two decavorns I fought to keep a brother who would rather follow Megatron and climb the ranks of Decepticon power than to love the other half of his own spark."

The green jet's engine growled and he ignored the conflicted, but still pleading gaze of the femme beside him. She was wrong. Dreadwing didn't deserve his efforts, nor did he want them, and it was far too late now for his fool's excuse of a brother to come crawling back to him for forgiveness now.

"I am tired of fighting, Terabyte."

He met her gaze briefly, recalling all the times that he had ever so subtly asked her to leave the war behind them. She had never understood, so blinded by her thirst for revenge. A thirst that even now lived within her, though she stood on the same side of the line as those she blamed.

"He chose many vorns ago to no longer want a brother." He sighed heavily, disregarding the burning in spark as even in the midst of defusing a bomb for the Prime miles away, his twin pounded the barrier he had erected between their sparks. "Now he has his wish."

Skyquake turned away from the view of the wharf to acknowledge the pain in her gold optics, then to curtly nod to the red mech standing at a respectful distance, feigning great interest in a pine cone in his servo.

"The Prime has the situation under hand, send for a ground bridge, we have no reason to remain here."


	11. Loved Ones

**The Honor in Duty**

 **Chapter 11**

 **Loved Ones**

* * *

 **Disclaimer: I think after like, 61 chapters to this series, plus one shots, you guys have got this down, but I still don't own Hasbro, the Transformers, or the Transformers: Prime tv series.**

 **Greetings my beloved readers! Here we are with the next chapter, a touch more action in this chapter, I know we've not had too much of that lately, but I feel like this portion of our mechs and femmes' lives really had a lot of character development and development potential, and that's important to me. Be sure and give me loads of feedback, I love hearing your opinions and ideas! Also, yay! Six reviews this chapter! So happy about that!**

 **Review Responses: _To AllSpark Princess:_ _Hate to disappoint, but the moment you're waiting for won't be coming for awhile still, but don't worry, our little TB is growing as a character and as an Autobot. She's had a lot of slag getting in her way though, so it's slow-going. Hope you enjoy the chapter!_**

 ** _To horseg27:_** ** _I literally have so many feels for TeraQuake, like seriously, they're my children, my precious giant alien robot babies, I love 'em to bits. Writing these guys has become a part of my life, I don't know what I'll do when I finally finish... Good thing I won't have that to worry about for a long long time lol._**

 ** _To_** ** _Cashagon: Thank you for your input, and yeah, I guess that is pretty true, PG-13 is a broad category. Honestly, I surprise myself with the things I write sometimes lol. And yes, our TB has grown in wisdom, and unfortunately also bitterness and distrust, since the flashbacks, and her personal growth has been a bit hampered lately with her faction-flipping. But I'm pretty sure we're past that stage now, after all, there's only so many times a femme can switch sides. _**

**_To redlinevcr:_** ** _No prob, here's the next one!_**

 ** _To ZabuzasGirl:_** ** _Does this count as immediately? Probably not lol. I tried XD_**

 ** _To KHandFF7fanforever:_** ** _First off, nice username, love KH myself lol. And aaargh, I know right? They just get so close and closer yet, but they've still not even kissed? I know I'm the writer, but really, the story is all theirs, and they just refuse to give any of us the satisfaction of tying the knot. But have no fear, the fluff will keep on coming (as well as good dose of angst) Enjoy the next chappie!_**

* * *

 _No one really knows why moons fall, or suns die, or planets fade. Perhaps they just do. Perhaps they grow weary of all the death and destruction and chaos in the universe and simply give up. Or perhaps it is simply the way of the universe, for all things to become, then be, then cease to be._

 _No one knew that it would happen, it was unexpected, yet altogether not. It was inevitable, no doubt, for the world of a people so eager to kill each other, to itself reach a point where it would die._

 _The superstitious and religious bots said Primus grew weary of their wars and carnage and thought it would end their pain if they with their world were slain. The scientific and logic-minded bots blamed the war for wasting the planet's resources, and wanton destruction of fuel supplies to spite the other side. They said that the people had torn out the planet's spark to spite its charred surface. And yet others, a very slim minority of those who had truly met the being within their world, or who had met those who had, said that perhaps Primus could no longer bear to see his children approaching the same fate that his own race had met millennia ago, and had fallen into a slumber to await either the end of the war, or the end of the beings who fought it._

 _In the end, it was all speculation. Only Primus knew why Cybertron went dark. Only Primus knew if he was angry, sleeping, or dead._

 _One thing, however, was painfully, dreadfully, oppressively clear to every last being on the planet…_

 _Cybertron had died._

 _And it was their fault._

 _It had been a quartex since the light went out from their world. The darkness weighed heavily on them all, Decepticon, Autobot, neutral, mechs and femmes, bots and beasts all alike. The War had come to a screeching halt, a sort of eerie, unspoken peace. A mourning vigil over the planet._

 _Predator huddled alongside prey, Decepticon medics healed Autobot troops and vice versa. Battlefields came to an abrupt ceasefire and generals and tacticians and warriors from both factions sat together and shared a solemn cube of high-grade._

 _One would have thought in the midst of such a vicious, unrelenting war, the two factions would use the darkness and the shock as a cover to wreak more havoc and chaos than they ever could have when the planet was bright. But no such chaos reigned._

 _The world seemed to have stopped for that quartex. Every bot's sparks seemed to hover between pulses, hoping, waiting for the light to return to Cybertron. For Primus to recover, to forgive, to awake, to return. But even the Well of Allsparks was dark._

 _The light never returned._

 _Just as the whole world had come to the unspoken agreement to stand vigil for the quartex, so the world came out of the haze all at once in one mass exodus from the world. Battles returned and were fought and won and lost with a greater desperation and fury than ever before. Neutrals, Autobots, and Decepticons piled into whatever ships they could find and ran, scattered through the cosmos. Most left the War behind, they gave up on the hopeless, pointless war that destroyed their world. Others simply fought until their ships were destroyed or else floated aimlessly through the stars, piloted only by the dead._

 _The main forces of the Autobots and Decepticons that remained gathered in Iacon and Kolkular, preparing for their own departure. It would take them longer to leave now, for the panicked masses had taken all pre-existing ships. But in time all would leave that could, and Primus help those who remained._

 _At the tallest peak of Kolkular, one lone femme stood, gazing out over the dark, dark world in the midst of the silence that now came at only this groon. One groon every rotation that all of Cybertron fell silent save for the scurrying of the glitch-mice and the distant mourning bays of the turbo-wolves._

 _From the small femme a short strain of music, sung in a clear soprano, a sweet voice, yet so perfectly conveying the brokenness that all of Cybertron felt._

" _Ages come and ages go…_

 _Ages come and ages gone."_

 **Nemesis**

He watched the workings of the bridge with little interest, his scarlet gaze thoughtful. A small, silenced and abused part of his long-ignored spark burned with the loss of his brother. Again.

It had been good to see Orion again.

As though their paths had never strayed so far apart, as though holding each other at gun or sword point was not a common occurrence, as though they had not been warring against each other and slaying each other's subordinates for decavorns.

The great warlord sneered at the weak, foolish thoughts at the depths of his spark, minutely irritated and perplexed by their stubborn grip on him. To think that after all these decavorns, his spark still thought it had a conscience. Fool thing.

As if he, Unicron, destroyer of worlds, had a conscience.

Megatron scowled, shaking his helm fractionally and clasping his hands behind his back, walking the bridge and observing his troops. Such thoughts came to him, foreign thoughts, thoughts of Unicron's. He paid them no mind. He was Megatron, the Lord Protector, galactically renowned warrior of the Pits, he would not be bested by the Dark Energon that flowed through his frame and spark.

It gave him strength, Unicron was no more and his influence likewise.

"If it pleases you, Lord Megatron," The silver mech snatched his thoughts back to the present and glowered at the small, arachnoid femme. "Once Soundwave discovers a means of decoding the remainder of the Iacon database, as we _know_ he will, I would suggest the deployment of an underutilized asset."

He took in her visage and posture with the meticulous gaze of an untrusting commander. Her pink optics gleamed with an unvoiced hatred and ambition, and the thin, bladed appendages protruding from her back were held with an air of disrespecting pride.

"And what asset would that be, Airachnid?" Megatron masked his weary exasperation well, feigning interest as though he didn't know what she wanted.

The black and purple femme bowed, her gold horns gleaming in the dim light of the bridge, "I believe that my superior tracking skills would expedite your quest for the remaining relics."

Predictable.

"Noted."

"You are a gracious audience, my lord." The spider's voice dripped with a venomous flattery, tainted by her scheming in a way that the foolish femme didn't realize he could recognize. He huffed, turning his back to her as she made her exit.

"Soundwave." Megatron turned to look at his ever-loyal silent CI head. Perhaps the only friend he had left in the wide, dark universe. "Remind me of her trustworthiness."

As was his wont, the mech merely replayed a voice record of the femme, "I believe we must consider the possibility of a future… _without_ _Megatron_."

He stifled a sigh. The underlings were all fools. Those who lived through their disloyalty nearly never again questioned his supreme right to lead the Decepticons.

Excepting of course, Starscream. One had to give the pompous, snivelling fool of a Seeker some credit: he was persistent. No matter the beatings, the reprimands, the solitary confinement, the tortures, the death threats… It mattered not to his traitorous second. The warlord had a feeling he could tear the mech's wings off and lock him in the deepest, darkest, most vile pit in all the known cosmos and by Starscream's sheer power-lust and his seething hatred for Megatron himself, the Seeker would somehow manage to survive and return to continue being a pathetic, whining thorn in his side.

For that reason alone Megatron had allowed the Seeker to live so long. In his own wretched way, Starscream was a survivor just as much as he was.

Touching a servo to the side of his helm, the silver mech opened an audio-visual comm line to Dreadwing's command console. He scowled minutely at the Autobot gesture; being in the diminutive little traitor's helm had left a few, unnoticeable traces of her. Her processors were far stronger than he had anticipated when he had done that, an Earth year ago.

"Dreadwing."

"I am at your beck and call, my lord."

He nodded in acknowledgement, "I wish to entrust you with a task I would normally reserve for myself." Noting the look of suspicion in his protégé's optics, he smirked, continuing, "That is, if you wish to prove yourself worthy of becoming my first lieutenant."

Ambition always was Dreadwing's downfall. The mech seemed torn for a moment, a pain in his ruby optics that had not been there before. Megatron assumed that he must have met with his twin before returning to the Nemesis. Their reunion surely could not have gone well, but it was of no concern to him.

"That post belongs to Airachnid, my lord." The gold-faced mech's tone held a fraction of doubt.

"She will be missed," Megatron smiled cruelly, shrugging his spiked shoulders lightly. "And I suggest you bring backup, she can be a handful… especially when cornered."

 **Autobot Outpost Omega One – 2150 hours**

Arcee stared off into the distance for a moment, then refocused her attention to the datapad in her hands. A small cord ran from the device to an appropriate slot in her wrist. By seemingly no interaction on her part, a report was appearing on the screen, moving, changing, and modifying itself as her processors dictated.

The little femme was comfortably seated on the Cybertronian-sized couch the bots had installed, reclining against Cliffjumper with her pedes draped over the arm of the couch. The red mech held a datapad in hand, but continually tilted it, occasionally leaning forward to peer into the screen, apparently playing a game of some sort. He had one arm around Arcee and the other rested on Skyquake's foot as the jet lounged over the rest of the couch, his wing tilted at a slightly odd angle to account for the sofa.

Along the back of the sofa, a second, smaller two-wheeler femme was sprawled like a cat behind the helms of those sitting on the couch, her dark blue helm gently resting against Skyquake's helm. Her optics were shut and her engine was humming with the soft purr of recharge. One arm, on which her helm was resting, stretched in front of her, its clawed servos curled around one of the flared gold tips of his sweeping optic ridges. Her thumb periodically rubbed across the smooth surface as she slept, her elven faceplates bearing a peaceful smile.

Bumblebee was sitting on the floor in front of Arcee, his gold helm leaned against the cushion. His black hand pressed a datapad into his faceplate, his engine rumbling with a heavy recharge. His other arm laid limp beside him, bent at a slightly uncomfortable looking angle where it had dropped when he fell asleep mid-report.

Lazily laying atop the jet's helm was a thin, pink-haired Asian girl, laying on her front, swinging her legs in the air behind her, arms draped loosely over the rounded crest of his fore-helm, watching him growl and fumble through writing his reports. He was clearly distracted, but the human girl using his helm as a bed seemed oblivious to the unhappily fluctuating vibrations of his EM field.

Every so often the girl would shift to get more comfortable and begin sliding off of his helm. Equally ever so often, the mech would absently reach up a gentle hand to return the girl to a safe position.

Raf was curled up against Bumblebee's spark, carefully positioned between the mech's chest plates that made up the front of his vehicle mode. The boy was awake, face illuminated by his laptop screen, glasses reflecting what could have been either some ingenious hobby or piece of his homework, most likely the former.

In Cliffjumper's lap, the third human sat, leaning against both his guardian and her partner equally, head back and eyes shut, though he didn't seem to be asleep. Two cords trailed from his ears.

Not far away, in the medical/research area set aside for Ratchet and Jetfire to do their work, the former lay slumped against a table, console in front of him streaming information to its unseeing owner. Nearby, Jetfire stood before his table, strewn with datapads and calculations and chemicals, both from Earth and otherwise. The white jet was intently studying a bubbling orange concoction, his expression somehow cheerful while still indicating that the experiment was in no way turning out as it ought to have.

Optimus leaned against the railing of the upper half of the base, watching his team with a fond smile. They had all been through so much, recently and otherwise. He had watched all of these bots develop from who they once were, and in Bumblebee's case, and to some extent Terabyte's also, he had watched them grow from younglings into the strong mechs and femmes that they now were.

The amusing, cosy sight before him was what the Prime, and the Matrix within him, was convinced would ultimately win the war for the Autobots. They were an army, yes, but they were also so much more than that. Even their newest recruits had come to realize and be accepted into that.

They were a family.

 **Forest: Location Unknown**

"Am I the only one who considers this to be _overkill_ on Lord Megatron's part?" Airachnid drawled, glancing back at the two massive mechs behind her with a quirked optic ridge.

She smiled, "I mean, dispatching two of his _most proficient_ warriors to track down one unconfirmed Energon spike?"

"Megatron knows me and Dreadwing here will get the job done."

The arachnoid femme grinned, showing her sharp fangs. How cute, the puffed up mech actually thought he was a proficient warrior. He couldn't even take a couple of fleshies.

" _Actually_ I was referring to Dreadwing and myself." Her grin widened as the cobalt ex-Wrecker swelled with indignation.

Her pink optics sparkled with delight in her mockery of the mech. Breakdown snarled at her, fists clenching as he prepared to lunge toward the spider, leisurely walking backwards through the woods with a nonchalant disregard to watching her back that no doubt heightened the grunt's displeasure. Airachnid's mono-clawed appendages swayed minutely, the lower two flicking in anticipation.

"Breakdown," Dreadwing rumbled, his voice warning, but holding the same hint of distraction the mech had had ever since he'd arrived. "Remain on task. This must be a unified effort."

Airachnid didn't care what his malfunction was, but it would make it easier for her to do some… _dispatching_ of her own. Then again, the commander had the ear and – according to rumor anyway, however much truth could be attributed to the gossip – spark of the Lord Protector himself. He may yet be of use to her. His tone suggested that he had an underlying purpose he was reminding Breakdown of, but she had already figured that Megatron would have ordered her removal.

She could take a small pleasure in offing the dull one though. If Knockout was to be believed, the lug actually found her attractive as a prospective mate. Were the mech of a more useful position or intellect, the femme would have gladly played this to her advantage, but Breakdown was high in neither stature, rank, nor processing capacity.

If she had a spark, she would have almost pitied the mech. Killing him would be too easy.

"Indeed Breakdown," Airachnid said sweetly, taunting him, "I know we've never seen… eyes to _eye_ , but that doesn't mean we can't, ah, _patch things up_?"

The mech roared with fury at her slighting jabs. She blinked her optics, waving an upper appendage and transforming into her more agile arachnoid form.

"That's it!" The Wrecker howled, charging after her with his mallet raised.

In the distance behind her, she heard Dreadwing call after his fellow mech, trying to calm the mech and bring him back to his senses, but Breakdown was too far enraged to heed his commander's orders. Shame really, those orders would have spared his life. But of course, she knew that he would go on a rampage if she prodded far enough.

Which led her to the fun part of her plan to lose the mechs. She darted through the trees with the ease and agility that came of being one of Cybertron's best trackers. Just for fun, she climbed one of the barer firs and ran along the branches, shooting a steadying web periodically when the branches were too far apart, and also to lead the mech on in the right direction.

Dreadwing had caught up to her and started firing on her, adding to Breakdown's sloppy, poorly aimed blasts.

Her proximity sensors warned her of weapon's lock just moments before the branch beneath her shattered, dropping her to the needle-covered earth with a painful crunch of one of her appendages snapping off as she rolled to lessen the impact.

Airachnid swore quietly, leaving off of taunting the mechs and shooting back a strand of webbing to block Dreadwing's gun barrel, then another large spattering of web that successfully snared the jet to the trunk of a particularly large tree trunk. She smirked. One down, one to go.

A smoking pinecone, annihilated by Breakdown's indiscriminate firing, urged the spider to keep on the move for awhile longer, a nice mound of boulders near the base of a rocky hillside revealing itself to her.

Perfect.

Mere moments later, her trap was prepared and she ran back out a ways towards where Breakdown was searching for her, his remaining optic tinged white with his fury.

She slowed, transforming to her bipedal mode, letting one of the ex-Wrecker's shots come close enough to her to seem a likely hit, feigning a dramatic cry of pain. The femme tripped and reached for her leg for effect, glancing over her shoulder as though in fear and limping towards the boulders and her ambush.

The fool wouldn't know what hit him. Until she made him of course. A quick kill never was any fun.

Right at the entry to the niche between the boulders, Airachnid stumbled, crying out again minutely as she collapsed to the ground. She looked up at Breakdown as he approached, a grin on his scarlet faceplate. She put as much fear as she could muster into her fuchsia gaze. It took more effort than she would have liked to wipe the anticipatory smirk from her violet lips.

"Easy prey." Breakdown hefted his hammer up with a chuckle, raising it to deliver a single, terminating blow.

She rose to her pedes as he took another step and found his pedes and hammer snared in a thin strand of web from between the two largest boulders framing the niche. If the mech had had the least bit of sense to observe his surroundings, the trap would have been plainly seen.

He strained against the sticky mess, then reached up to pull his hammer away, only succeeding in tangling his other arm in the gooey strands.

Airachnid sashayed up to the helpless mech, smiling cruelly as she raised her remaining five spider-like appendages, razor sharp claws gleaming in the rays of sun shining through the leaves. "I was just about to say the same thing. Fancy that."

 **Jasper, Nevada: Outskirts**

The woman perched securely on the branch of the old tree behind the stable, if slightly run-down, little brick house out in the wilderness. The leaves shielded her lithe form, her golden eyes piercing through the shadows to focus on two figures in the yard. Like most homes in the area, the house had a ring of evergreen trees resembling pillars surrounding it as a windbreak, with a green yard carefully maintained within the ring.

A shock of red hair escaped the cap she'd added to her holoform for stealth purposes, fluttering in the gentle breezes that got through the windbreak. Her clothing was all specially programmed to blend perfectly with her surroundings, and she had a scarf of the same programming over her face, so that her eyes were all that gave her away.

Her physical frame was at the farthest edge of her holoform's range, a lone motorcycle in the desert, stowed behind an outcropping of stone and brush.

She felt a twinge of guilt in her spark. Optimus needed to know about this. She'd kept Taia's existence hidden for far too long. Granted, much had been going on. But if she was waiting for a free, convenient time, she'd be waiting till all were one.

Gold irises widened and narrowed in a distinctly inhuman manner, zooming in on the two humans playing in the grass.

One was Taia, a now nine year old girl with two long blond braids and a splattering of freckles beneath her hazel eyes. The girl was running around in brightly colored shorts and a t-shirt, squealing and laughing as the other human, a thickly built woman sprayed her hose alternately over her flowers and her daughter.

Terabyte watched with a little smile as the girl snuck around the corner of the house out of her caretaker's view and filled a bucket with water. The girl hefted the half-filled bucket with water up to her shoulder, wobbling slightly from the weight before running back out to where the bronze-haired woman had returned to watering her plants, wiping a bit of sweat from her tanned face.

After nearly losing her balance again, Taia flung the contents of the bucket on her caretaker, soaking herself as much as her mother with a giggle, running off as the woman instantly took up chase.

"Oi! Get yer lil tail ova here, ya lil rascal!" She recognized the heavily accented voice instantly from her conversation half a year ago.

The holoform went unnoticed as she continued to watch their play. The woman chased after her charge spraying water and teasing threats with equal liberality, whilst the young miscreant dodged and stumbled away with peals of laughter, now well and truly drenched.

Soon the woman caught her charge in a tackle, pulling both to the ground with a surprised shriek from Taia, before the woman started tickling her, making the child curl up on herself, writhing with giggles and futile attempts to escape.

With a wry smile, Terabyte allowed her holoform to dissipate, her awareness shifting back to her own frame and surroundings.

She missed those days.

But for now she had more pressing matters to attend to. And far less pleasant, she had no doubt.

 **Nemesis: Medbay**

"I'm just a tad busy at the moment, in case it had escaped your notice." Knockout snapped, his patience wearing thin with the stammering Vehicon.

"I-it's a matter of d-d-delicacy, Doctor." The Vehicon mumbled, wringing the datapad in his clawed hands. "P-perhaps you'd like to take a moment to s-sit down?"

The medic rolled his optics, peeling his patient's spark-chamber cover off and setting it aside. His patient was an older Vehicon, one of the ones from early in the War, one of the rare firsts. The Vehicon's spark was fading, there wasn't much he could do about it, but it was still his job to try. He figured the mech had just a few more joors left in him.

"I am _slightly_ preoccupied."

"B-but sir-!"

"Get out!" Knockout barked before venting and shifting his shoulder plates. His tone returned to his usual smooth drawl, "Unless you'd like to volunteer for the next procedure?"

The Vehicon shook his helm rapidly, darting out of the med-bay in a rush. Drones, fools every one of them. That one was more skittish than he thought the Decepticon force still had. Megatron had ordered all the drones put through rigorous testing and recycled if they failed. The tests were supposed to keep blubbering malfunctions like that out of the ranks.

It could hardly be considered humane, but no one could deny that it was effective. The weak ones only ended up dying in battle or being terminated before they could relinquish sensitive intel anyway. In a twisted way it could be considered a mercy, simply hastening the inevitable rather than drawing out their miserable existences.

Some orns that soothed his spark.

Knockout shook his helm minutely, examining the weakly pulsating spark laid bare before him. One had to give Primus credit for aesthetics, the Cybertronian spark was quite possibly the most beautiful thing in existence.

The red mech rolled his optics at himself, "In a philosophical mood today, aren't we?"

His medicon assistant warbled an inquiring tone, but received no more than a dismissing wave of his hand in reply. Why should he explain himself to another drone?

In truth, the Decepticons all told themselves that the Vehicons were drones, and he had a feeling the Autobots had swallowed that particular piece of propaganda hook, line, and sinker. If casualty reports and camera records were anything to go by. From what he'd learned of the Prime, or should he say, Orion Pax, he would be devastated if he knew.

Turning his attention back to his patient, Knockout swore under his breath, the nanites around the mech's spark chamber were already grayed. The life-En lines were fractured and dried up too. No wonder the mech's spark was fading, it was starved of energy. Nor was that something he could remedy.

"Get me an SPC, ASAP."

As the medicon rushed off to carry out his orders, the medic began prepping the spark for removal. It was a procedure he was well accustomed to by now. Not a standard procedure, and one the Autobots would shudder to hear of, it preserved the spark of a dying bot. The bot would still die, and who that bot had become would be lost, but the core of their being would live on to become another mech.

The effect it had on the spark was noticeable, but small, and the average spark could only withstand undergoing the procedure three or four times before the trauma caused the spark to cease. But in that way, a spark could live three or four times as long as it would normally, which was crucial in a faction that had lost most of its femmes to the neutrals.

Not that any bot in their right mind would want to reproduce in the middle of a War without end anyway.

Knockout carefully scooped the spark from its chamber with the net-like magnetic tool for that purpose, taking care to not touch the orb of life at any point. In the middle of releasing the spark into the preservation chamber, his communications line pinged.

Repeatedly, increasingly insistently.

"For the love of Cybertron would it _kill_ to wait a nano?!" He snarled over the comm. link, not even bothering to see who the communication was from. More likely than not, it was that dim-witted Vehicon again, but he didn't particularly care if it was Megatron himself.

Completing the transfer and shooing the medicon away to put the SPC in storage for the time being, the medic sent the line to his console and glared at the caller. Who was in fact a rather displeased looking Lord Protector.

"You called, my lord?" Knockout asked, his voice tight and impatient.

"Breakdown was terminated in battle at 1300 hours."

Odd that Megatron himself would be making house calls, normally no one but Terabyte had ever bothered… "Did you just say Breakdown?"

Megatron raised an optic ridge at him, smirking slightly, "Do I need to _break it down_ into simpler terms for you, Doctor?"

Knockout slammed his fist down on the end-call key, smashing the console with the weight of his grief. He stomped the few paces to where his tools lay scattered across the table, starting to put a stylus away before swearing at the top of his vocs and throwing the tray across the room.

Summoned by the clatter, a medicon stepped in only to be sent scurrying away with a scalpel lodged in his shoulder joint.

"Get out! All of you!" Knockout bellowed, kicking a berth in the direction of the door, "GET OUT!"

The medic punched the wall beside him one last time before sinking to the floor in defeat. Breakdown was gone.

"Stupid, two-bit, slagging oaf of a mech… The pit-spawned glitch finally went and got his useless aft offed."

His only friend… gone.

 **Autobot Outpost Omega One**

"Enter."

Terabyte jumped at the Prime's summoning voice, straightening and tossing the pinecone she'd pulled from her knee joint into subspace. She had been standing outside the mech's office for nearly a breem, trying to tidy both her outside appearance and her mental preparations for this conversation.

A conversation that she had allowed herself to procrastinate for nearly a year now.

Casting one last judgmental glance over her slightly scuffed armor, the femme winced at the still-visible remnants of Taia's last artistic endeavor on her silver thigh.

"Terabyte?" Just as she had taken a step towards the threshold, the two-wheeler found herself face to waist with the Prime, causing her to start for a second time with his smooth baritone, "May I be of assistance to you?"

"Ori-Prime!" She choked out, bowing her helm in equal portions of difference and embarrassment. "My apologies, my, uh, Prime, I did not mean to disturb you by my presence."

He chuckled at her, his cobalt optics welcoming. Once again she couldn't help but notice the distinct difference of his field that had stayed with him ever since his bout with amnesia. It was a pleasant change, as though both Prime and Matrix had been refreshed with a new hope and passion for the cause.

It was encouraging.

He gestured her to the seat in front of his desk and returned to his own chair. After a moment's hesitation, the femme decided against protesting that she'd rather stand and instead sat down in the too-large chair in front of the too-large desk and clasped her hands in her lap awkwardly.

Optimus noted her stiffly straight posture, flared armor, and awkward hand placement with a small smile. The femme certainly was one for formality, she was a femme after Prowl's own spark.

A breem that felt like eternity ticked by before at long last Optimus prompted, "I would assume you came to discuss something with me?"

Terabyte cleared her vents, internally reprimanding herself for making a fool of herself. "Yes, sir. It is regarding the humans."

When she said no more for a moment, the scarlet and blue mech nodded his helm encouragingly.

"I may have neglected to inform you of a certain occurrence that I believe you would appreciate being aware of." She stated vaguely, adamantly staring at the Prime's grilled forehelm crest rather than meeting his optics.

Optimus shifted in his seat, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the desk, lacing his rectangular servos together. "Go on."

She vented softly, her armor retracting fractionally. "As you are no doubt aware, I habitually leave the base premises for a time of solitude and meditation in the forested reserve a few miles from Jasper. I also habitually patrol the town of Jasper prior to this time of meditation."

Terabyte paused for a moment, attempting to no avail to read the Prime's thoughtful expression. She straightened nervously, flaring her armor back out from where it had retreated closer to her frame.

"I may or may not have incidentally acquired a fourth human charge in these excursions. Sir."

Cobalt optics blinked at her. Gold optics shone wide in trepidation.

"What?"

The two-wheeler blinked at the out-of-character response. She shifted her pedes, her finials flickering with uncertainty. "A fourth human child has learned of our existence."

Optimus vented heavily, his optics clearly indicating his displeasure with her, though his EM field emanated a wisp of understanding that human children were incredibly resourceful and more difficult to stay hidden from.

"I take it this is a recent development?" His tone had gained a fraction of the weariness she was accustomed to the Prime's voice holding when he spoke to Cliffjumper. It also clearly indicated that he was assuming that it was _not_ in fact a recent development.

She ducked her helm in shame, "Negative."

Prime sighed, brushing a servo over his crest, but before he could speak, the door to his office opened and Bulkhead came in with a clatter as he bumped into the door frame and rattled the door.

"Sorry." The large mech mumbled sheepishly. He checked the door for damages, then dumped a handful of datapads on the Prime's desk, "Me and Jackie's reports from the last month. Ish."

She felt her armor tighten against her will at the mech's presence, her frame shifting to a more submissive posture. Not fully submissive, but enough to make her point. Terabyte rose from her seat, sensing the Wrecker's change in field when he realized she was there. He growled minutely when she took a step towards the door, and subsequently towards him.

The olive mech cut the snarl short when his Prime cast him a disapproving look. Terabyte felt a wave of relief wash over her as she realized Optimus was aware of their contention.

Of course Optimus knew, she thought with a small twitch of her lips that might have been a smile under different circumstances. Her finials flickered and spread slightly from their defensively pinched position. He was the Prime, of course he knew. She was a fool to have thought that she could hide anything from the Matrix-bearer.

Bulkhead's scowl indicated that his thoughts mirrored her own, only he was much less pleased about the fact. "Anyway, that was it, the whole crew's in the rec room if you wanna come for a refuel."

Likely not intending for the Prime to hear him, he added darkly, "You can leave the Con freak."

With that, the Wrecker retreated, his heavy steps echoing through the hall as he stomped away.

Feeling his gaze on the top of her helm, Terabyte looked up to meet the Prime's optics, unsure of what he might say. He simply regarded her for a moment, one optic ridge raised inquiringly.

"Is there something you would like to tell me?"

Terabyte vented, contemplating whether or not she would be best off to send him the memory file of their clash. She also considered pinging Bumblebee to help her, but it would take him too long to come and would make the whole situation much more awkward. She could handle this on her own, she'd always been on her own, why now did she suddenly long for support?

No, this was something she needed to do on her own anyway.

Which begged to question if she ought to tell the Prime anything at all, because it was certain that he would try to mediate and solve the conflict. That was what he did, it was who he was.

"Bulkhead and I have had a… misunderstanding."

The little two-wheeler stepped out of the office, glancing back at the Prime as he followed suit. She hesitated for a moment, allowing Optimus to take the lead, slipping back to her place of comfort to the right of the mech, her shorter stride keeping her slightly behind the mech.

"However, I am confident that with more time to prove my loyalty, he will see reason once again." A faint flick of her finial belied her uncertainty.

Optimus hummed gently, his engine giving a little rumble. "You have more than proven your loyalty, Terabyte. I will consult Bulkhead on the matter."

She shook her helm swiftly, "Negative, my Prime… Optimus… Intervention will only bury the issue, rather than resolving it. Bulkhead must come to trust me on his own or not at all."

"Very well." The Prime looked at her with an almost fatherly gleam of pride in his cobalt optics. "On the previous topic, I would like a full report on this new human charge you have acquired."

"Yes sir." She bowed minutely as they walked.

The leader of the Autobots attempted to make conversation a few times, but neither of them being wont to small talk, they soon fell into a companionable, if slightly awkward, silence.

After a few klicks, they arrived at the rec room, their audials instantly being greeted with a boom of laughter from primarily Skyquake and Cliffjumper, though Arcee and Bumblebee's voices could be heard as well.

Optimus stepped into the rec room threshold and the room went quiet for a moment before Cliffjumper waved them in with a grin, "C'mon, Boss Bot! Pull up a chair!"

The scarlet and blue mech tilted his helm and stepped in, but glanced back at her when she hesitated. He met her optics, indicating with his helm that she come with him.

She shook her helm, clasping her servos behind her back, "If it is all the same to you, I have reports to catch up on."

Her spark gave a guilty jolt when she realized that Skyquake had seen her. His ruby optics watched her every move carefully, his wing posture expectant, almost pleading. She shook her helm again, imperceptibly, taking a deep vent as her spark rolled in protest. He needed her by his side now more than ever, his spark had to be breaking from keeping his brother out.

Soon everyone in the room was watching her. Bumblebee, Cliffjumper, Arcee, and the kids all beckoned her in, while Wheeljack gave a little shrug and took a swig of his Energon. Even Ratchet and Jetfire had taken a break from their reports and lab work that seemed all consuming. Bulkhead gave a low growl, earning him a raised optic ridge from the other Wrecker and a snarl from the green jet.

"The reports can wait, Terabyte." She met the Prime's gaze, smiling faintly in return to his encouraging smile. He went on, "Family takes higher priority than paperwork, does it not?"

"Family?" Terabyte repeated skeptically, she hardly thought she fit into that category, how many times had she had the medics change her insignia now?

A bark of laughter drew her gaze to Wheeljack, who waved an arm in a rough gesture inward, "For Pit's sake, get your aft in here, femme."

With a gracious bow, the little two-wheeler finally acquiesced to the peer pressure, pulling up a seat between Skyquake and Bumblebee, pausing to scoop Raf up into her lap. Optimus took the last seat between Arcee and Jetfire.

The whole table was silent for a moment before Terabyte bolted upright suddenly, passing Raf to Sky and bowing slightly to the Prime, "The usual, sir?"

Prime nodded with little thought to it, listening with interest to the story Wheeljack had gone back to telling about a prank he and Whirl had pulled on Magnus. The smallest femme pretended to ignore the sour feeling in the bottom of her tanks.

One would think that with as much experience as she had with making mistakes, she would have learned to be forgiving by now. To let the past be the past. Perhaps one day she would, but she had a feeling that day would not come for many vorns.

A moment later she came back with two cubes of Energon, one large cube swirling with a generous portion of copper flecks and one small cube a dull gray from the medical mixture Ratchet had given her.

"That looks like slag." Arcee commented helpfully, indicating her cube.

She grimaced slightly, "It tastes about the same."

Optimus tilted his helm at the glittering cube of Energon that contained nearly equal portions of Energon and copper flecks. His expression was bemused, yet pleased as he gave her a little smile, "A little Energon with the copper?"

"As you like it." Terabyte replied, a hint of laughter in her tone.

Glancing over, Prime and lieutenant found Ratchet nearly grinning at the both of them. The expression unnerved her minutely, having never seen the medic smile fully. After a moment the medic broke out into a full laugh.

The medic calmed down after a few klicks of the whole team watching him with varying degrees of surprise, "For as long as I've known you- Primus! I could never figure out why your energy levels spiked so regularly."

Skyquake picked up the Prime's cube of Energon and gave it a swirl, chuckling, "Well who would've guessed, the high and righteous Prime of the Autobots is a right copper-tank. Much as you're a silver glossa, Tera'."

She regarded the glittering liquid that was the Prime's fuel, wondering briefly if he would be angry with her for bringing humiliation to him. In spite of herself the young femme giggled, "Oh no Sky, you know I would rather eat my silver undiluted by fuel."

Suddenly the femme's gold optics went wide, "Oh! Scrap, I completely forgot I had silver drops from my sparking day still!"

Whipping the box from her subspace, Terabyte counted how many drops she had left… Nine. Terabyte stifled a wistful sigh and started handing one to everyone, even Bulkhead accepted one, refusing to meet her gaze and clearly only taking it by Wheeljack's insistence.

When she got to Ratchet, he met her optics, "You know Agent Fowler will not give us any more silver for these, right?"

Terabyte smiled at him, nodding, "How often are we all off shift? This calls for a treat."

Once she'd given everyone a silver drop she put the box away and sat back down, taking a sip of her medicated Energon, beaming as the rec room was filled with satisfied hums and moans of delight as the silver melted on their glossas.

"You missed your calling, Doc-bot." Cliffjumper declared, licking his servos, "Confectionary art's in your life-En."

"You eat yours already, kid?"

The two-wheeler looked up at the tri-colored Wrecker incredulously, him being the last mech she'd have expected to notice. Sky, or Bumblebee, or the Prime, but not Wheeljack.

A mix of emotions ran across her faceplates fluidly, ending with a puzzled, but pleased little quirk of her lips. Terabyte let it grow into a smile, fond memories of her childhood overriding the bitterness in her spark.

"My carrier worked at the silver factory in Protihex… Every time she gave me sweets, she would tell me the same thing: Silver is sweet, little one, but you know what is sweeter than silver?"

She laughed, coolant brimming her optics, but she couldn't bring herself to stop talking. No doubt she would later wonder whatever overcame her to make her open up so much to Wheeljack of all mechs. Something about that precise moment, laughing and enjoying time with them. Or perhaps it was merely that she had gone mad from all of Ratchet's slag-like concoction.

Her spark was humming contentedly in her chest and she felt more at home than she had in vorns.

"The only thing sweeter than silver is sharing it with the bots that you love."

Optimus nodded, wiping a bit of copper from his mouth with an almost sheepish smile, bringing on another round of laughter.

"Family."

What a concept, Terabyte thought. One she could get used to though.


	12. What on Cybertron

**The Honor in Duty**

 **Chapter 12**

 **What On Cybertron**

* * *

 _ **Disclaimer: I don't own the Transformers or the Transformers: Prime series.**_

 _ **Okay guys, I know it's been like, aaaaaages since I posted last, I think you all deserve an explanation. Hopefully you're all still here! When I started writing fanfiction four ish years ago, I was (granted only fourteen at the time) not in a really good place mentally, and writing easily became an escape for me. That's part of why the writing came so easily and naturally to me, because it was my world and I was pouring everything I had into every chapter, and my goodness the support and feedback I got from all of you guys was amazing. My whole life has sort of been turning upside down in this past year especially, and I've had so many amazing things happening. In short, I've really become stable and happy in my life. Which is definitely a good thing. Unfortunately for you guys though, that means writing isn't an escape anymore, which means that my chapters are going to be pretty slow coming from here on out. I definitely still want to finish Terabyte and the Bots' journey (probably ending up as a series of four stories, Duty and Deceit, the Honor in Duty, and two more in the future) but you guys have been so good and faithful to this story that you deserve to know that it'll be a long ride, most likely with a lot of long gaps between chapters. Here's to life and happiness and another chapter!**_

 _ **To Oddity Empress:**_ _ **Oh my gosh, yes, it was soooo adorable and fun writing out that couch scene! (though I did get everyone all tangled up a few times before I figured out where everyone would realistically fit lol) I think you've pretty much already got the idea, but there's a lot of fluff in these giant robots' futures.**_

 _ **To BraveSeeker3:**_ _ **It honestly just makes me so happy when you (and other reviewers) leave super excited reviews. Love it! Here's to the continuation of the story we all adore!**_

 _ **To AllSparkPrincess:**_ _ **Family comes first, for sure. I have a feeling the Bots would like Lilo and Stitch lol, might have to find a good spot for a little family fluff about that eventually, eh?**_

 _ **To**_

 _ **To Rem:**_ _ **Like I said above, it'll be slow, but for sure this story is gonna keep on going! So good to know that everyone is still here and wanting more!**_

* * *

 _"What do you mean you have not yet completed the task?" She growled at the Vehicon sheepishly towering over her, "I assigned this report_ _ **four**_ _orns ago."_

 _A tap on her shoulder redirected her attention to the mech behind her. She quirked an optic ridge up at him, inviting him to speak._

 _"The console strip in the right side of the left wing's center is offline and sparking? I'm new to this division and I don't know- I don't know what I-"_

 _She cut the mech's stammering off with a curt wave of her hand, "What is your designation?"_

 _"Unit 740329837-"_

 _"Your desired designation mech." The femme interrupted again, resisting the urge to roll her optics, "Do you really expect me to remember the series numbers of every bot under me?"_

 _She never did understand how the other bots could never be bothered learning the Vehicons' designations, it made keeping order in the division far easier. Not to mention that it was what they were all fighting for, the elimination of the Autobots and their prejudiced way of life with castes and classes and levels of worth._

 _The Vehicons had sparks just the same as any of the named mechs, she did not see why they were disregarded like they were. That they were drones was propaganda, and yet even many of the Decepticons treated them as though they were._

 _The mech laughed, "Fair enough, Major. I like to go by Zippy."_

 _"Zippy." Some of the Vehicons came up with quite impressive names for themselves, and then there were bots like Zippy. "Alright, so you said the console strip in the right of the left center was malfunctioning?"_

 _"Yes sir."_

 _"Directions like that are useless. I run seventeen divisions across Kaon and Kolkular territory alone. Get me the console code and come back when you have it, Zippy."_

 _"Major Terabyte? Soundwave would like to see you in his office immediately."_

 _Three other bots marched up and delivered reports while the messenger was speaking, so the two-wheeler did not quite catch what the mech had said. Before she could ask for him to repeat the memo, the mech was gone and two more had come up to inform her that she was wanted in Megatron's throne room, as well as in the training room by her mentor._

 _The little femme shooed away a couple of rookies, absently directing them to Voltage. Voltage could handle whatever minor trials they had. She checked her schedule with a sigh as she marched to her office for a klick of peace. Seemed like the whole Decepticon army was falling apart lately._

 _She bit her glossa, holding back a wave of unpleasant comments about the femme she'd put in charge of writing up her schedule. This was what she got for not doing the schedule herself._

 _Four appointments within five klicks of each other, on four different sides of the citadel. The femme vented heavily, opening her comm line to start rescheduling._

 _Her helm throbbed painfully, reminding her of the fact that she had not recharged or fueled in several orns. Sky would blow a fuse if he could see how deep she'd sunk herself in her work._

* * *

Energon prod collided with her abdomen, sliding perfectly through the gap in the decorative plating over her left hip, drawing a gasp of more horrified anticipation than pain. Nothing could brace a bot for the convulsive jolt of electricity that coursed through her frame as her adversary activated the prod.

The femme fell to her knees unwilling, frame spasming with the current. She snarled, forcing her servos to stretch out towards the shaft, fighting to grasp it as pain coursed through her Energon as the electricity literally boiled her life-En.

Yanking on the shaft with all her might, Terabyte's optics widened in fear as the head of the prod caught in the triangular gap in the abdominal panel, unable to come out.

The sounds of Arcee and Bumblebee crashing through and clashing with the Vehicons that Knockout had brought with him to the Energon mine. Both sides were so desperate for fuel these orns. Surely there was a better way to get Energon than this though, the battles for the mines were always vicious, and ended in more life-En shed than Energon won.

She turned her frantic golden gaze up towards her attacker, almost pleading, "Knockout-"

He looked down at her with contempt, a bitterness in his optics that made her spark catch. Who did he lose? The only bot he'd ever shown any genuine attachment to was Breakdown, but last she checked the mech was still online.

"What's the matter, Terabyte?" The red mech sneered, but he shut off the Energon prod's current to hear her out, "Run out of clever ideas?"

She quirked an optic ridge, her battle processors having already seized up the situation and determined the best means of escape. But she knew that there was good in the mech, now in this moment of pain, this might be her only chance to sway the mech. He'd helped her, she didn't care what Ratchet thought of the Decepticon medic, he had saved her life in the only way he could.

"I did not come to fight you, Knockout."

"Oh really?" He gestured to the charred streak over his lower pede from her cannon. The armor plating had split a little bit at the center of the blast, but the damage was minimal and they both knew it, but the mech went on, "All the cannon blasts and jabbing at me with that sad excuse for swordsmechship made it hard to tell."

The two-wheeler chuckled, "You know as well as I do that I could have dispatched you by now were I trying to do so."

Knockout opened his mouth to object with another snide remark only to shrug, a small smirk touching his lips as she winced at the movement of the sharp prod still stuck in her side. "And you know as well as I do that you won't kill me."

"Likewise." Terabyte replied, trying futilely to remove the spear again. Either he would retract the weapon and let her go, or she would have to snap the panel off along with the prod, and fight him in earnest. "Why do you stay with them? You know what they are, and Megatron's processors are slag and you know it."

"I…" Unlike the last time she'd asked, he wasn't lying to her, and for the first time, she saw the genuine spark pain set into his flawless features, his cherry optics carrying the same weight that she'd felt in her own far too many times. "I don't-"

Just as the medic started to speak from his spark, Bumblebee came crashing through, shattering the Energon prod embedded in her side as he plowed through Knockout, slamming the medic into the dirt and pressing his blasters into the Decepticon's face-plates.

The two-wheeler hissed, putting a hand over her side, where the scout's impact had destroyed both the prod and the armor piece it had caught in. She snarled, lunging at Bumblebee and kicking him off of the now enraged Decepticon medic.

Bumblebee was whirling and bleeping insensibly, but it didn't take a genius to know he was beyond angry with her. Terabyte ignored the scout's protests, as she pounced on his blaster arm to keep him from shooting Knockout.

"Stop blasting him, you fool!" She roared, pressing her sharp kneeplate into his chest to keep him immobilized.

The femme didn't dare let the scout up until she heard the familiar sound of a groundbridge activating. Arcee was shouting at her, verbally and through comms, and Bumblebee was still spewing insults and demanding explanation.

"What on Cybertron has gotten into you?!"

Before she'd even processed that the other femme was behind her, Terabyte found herself thrown aside, catching her fall in a roll and standing up, scowling at the both of them.

"What's gotten into me?" She repeated incredulously, "I was _getting through to him_! What the Pit is wrong with you bots?! Is killing the only way you know to end this war?"

Bumblebee threw his hands up in the air, rolling his baby blue optics with an exasperated buzz, **"You weren't getting through to him, you were at his mercy! He was gonna off you!"**

"Bee's right, killing may not be the only way to end the war, but suicide sure as Pit won't help us either." The blue and pink femme had her hands on her hips, looking at her with a disapproving, even disappointed gaze, "And neither does fraternizing with the enemy. They aren't your friends anymore, Terabyte, you can't treat them like they are."

She flicked her finials, flaring her armor and shifting her posture more aggressively, "So what about me? What about Sky? Jetfire? We were all 'Cons. Once a 'Con always a 'Con, right? They may not be our friends, but they don't have to be our enemies either, if we have a chance to try and win them over, we'd be fools not to take it!"

" **You guys were different!"** Bee objected, though it was obvious that he was second-guessing that statement even as he defended it, **"You weren't- you weren't cold-sparked killers-"**

" **Oh you want to try that? Make us out to be better than the rest? High and mighty Terabyte and Skyquake, not proper Cons at all?"** The reversion back to Cybertronian as her temper flared made both Arcee and the scout cringe under her anger. The last time she had railed on them like this was when she was still a spy for Megatron. **"Prowl. Pyro. Twintwist. Not to mention the Pits, Sky spent decavorns in the Pits before the War, or did you forget about that? Do you want to take a seat while I go on? We will be here quite awhile if you do."**

She turned her back to the two Autobots, marching towards the Energon mine to start carting back Energon for Jetfire and Ratchet to refine back at base. As they followed her towards the cave-like mouth of the mine, she could sense the pain and conflict in their EM fields and stifled a sigh.

That was a cruel way to bring it to their recollection. It was necessary though.

" **What is the point of fighting for good, and for hope, and for mercy, if we do not practice them ourselves? How can we ever win this war if we refuse to give them a chance? If death is the only way out of this gridlocked war, how are we any better than they are?"**

Terabyte didn't wait for a reply, nor did she expect one. What more was there to be said? She was reaching him, she was sure of it.

If someone had told her a vorn ago that she would attack and berate her friends and fellow workers to defend Knockout of all mechs, she would have laughed in their face. She would have been all derision. Yet here she was. In her time on the Nemesis under his care over the past few quartex, she had come to see a side of the vain medic that she hadn't ever realized existed.

The mech that she'd come to know, although through more pain and trial than she would have preferred, was a mech worth defending.

* * *

 **Later, Autobot Outpost Omega One**

Wrench collided with the back of her helm, making the little femme flinch away instinctively, even though it did not particularly hurt.

"You're still recovering, you little glitch!" The ornery medic snapped, pausing for a moment in his ranting to yell at Jetfire to bring back his welder, "Hardly an orn off your sedatives and you _let_ the butcher get the best of you, rupturing your newly rebuilt chassis and ripping off the only sturdy abdominal plating you have-"

"Actually Bee ripped off the plating." She pointed out, even though she knew the medic wasn't listening to her at all.

Sure enough, her comment brought her no more than another wrench blow to dodge as the medic ranted, "Not to mention that after sustaining damage, you _went to work in the mines_ for three _joors_. What on Cybertron were you thinking?!"

Terabyte gave an amused huff, "How many times can a femme hear that question in a single day?"

"Bumblebee said you just knelt at that slagger's pedes _talking_ to him while he tortured you! Every bot here knows that prissy excuse for a medic can't best you in a fair fight, so what the Pit were you doing at his mercy?"

As Jetfire came in and set the welder down on the medic's surgical table beside her berth, he shrugged a wing lightly, a slightly puzzled expression forming on his inquisitive faceplates, "From what I have heard of this 'Knockout', he has little mercy to be at?"

"Exactly my point."

"You do not know him like I know him." She snarled in reply, pushing herself off the berth, ignoring the medic's protests and pushing off the massive white jet's attempts to steady her. Gold optics sharp, she picked up Ratchet's datapad with the inventory list, scanning through it briefly to locate the plating she needed to replace. "One day, he will turn and prove all of your high and mighty preconceptions wrong. If I have learned anything in the past nearly two years, it is that nothing is quite as it appears."

Ratchet rolled his sea-glass blue optics impatiently, "And if I've learned anything in the past _eight decavorns_ it's that if a bot is _impaling_ helpless femmes with _lethal weapons_ it's pretty safe to say he's not actually a great mech inside!"

Now it was her turn to roll her optics, "I hardly think I would be standing here today if I were helpless."

"My point still stands."

"And so does hers, Doc."

Terabyte turned to smile appreciatively at Cliffjumper, who'd just walked in. The red mech shrugged, "I figure she had a good reason for doing what she did out there. This is TB after all, she's always got a good reason for what she does, even when no one else can figure it out."

She frowned for a moment, then quirked an optic ridge. Odd way of putting it, but she supposed it was a compliment nonetheless. Maybe. In any case, it silenced the medic.

"C'mon, Short Stuff, the kids are here, Raf'll wanna check on you."

* * *

"-tron were you thinking?"

The little two-wheeler fought the urge to facepalm at the words that welcomed her entrance into the lounge where Bulkhead, Arcee, Bumblebee, and Skyquake were all glaring down at the human children.

"What have I done this time?" She asked wearily, not wanting to admit that she really was quite tired now, even though she had just recharged less than half an orn ago. Her energy levels were taking an inordinate amount of time to recover from her stay at the Nemesis.

Bulkhead gestured towards Raf impatiently, "Did you do this?"

Puzzled, she looked at the spiky haired boy, only then noticing the smaller frame huddled behind him with an expression bearing equal portions of fear and awe. The blond girl clung to Raf's arm like a life-line, hazel eyes wide and mouth slightly agape.

How had Taia gotten here? Terabyte took in Raf's defensive position in front of the younger child and sighed. "Raf, you should not have brought her here."

"You said you told Optimus about her already, I thought everyone knew!" He argued, pushing his red framed glasses up and gazing up at her in something hovering between accusation and inquiry. "And you promised her you'd show her the base!"

Terabyte ignored the protesting shouts of the others, wincing as the little girl let out a squeak of fear at the uproar her presence was causing. She could see the girl shrinking closer to Raf and trembling ever-so-slightly, her wide eyes gleaming with unfallen tears.

Kneeling beside her and Raf, she scooped up the distressed youngling in her hands and making a gentle shushing sound, while simultaneously shooting a comm message to everyone present to shut up before they made her cry.

"It's okay, Taia, don't you worry. Alright? It's okay."

The girl sniffled, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand, "Your friends don't like me, Ms Byte. Th-they're yelling at you a-and it's all my fault."

"No…" The navy femme's optics widened minutely when she realized that the girl's tears were on her behalf, "No, Taia, it is not your fault, not at all. I promised I would bring you here, and here you are, it's just a little bit earlier than I had intended, okay? My friends are just surprised, because Cybertronians are supposed to be a secret and they did not know that you found me. But everything is okay, and none of it is your fault, alright?"

"But you're gonna get in trouble-"

"Terabyte will not be punished for your inquisitive spirit, Taia, you have my word."

The smooth baritone rumble so near her audials startled Terabyte, so absorbed in soothing Taia as she had been she had failed to hear the Prime's approach. Nonetheless she nodded her appreciation to the much larger bot now down on one knee beside her to be closer to the girl's level.

He reached out one large servo to the girl, laughing softly when the girl shook his servo with all her might, in spite of his finger being larger than her whole arm. "Welcome to our home, Taia, I am Optimus Prime."

"Hi! I'm Taia, I'm nine! How old are you? Ms Byte said that your people live foreeeeever, she's like older than two thousand, and she said she's the youngest of all of you!" The little blond girl wiped the last of her tears away and smiled brightly up at the Prime, her usual bubbly character returning almost instantly.

Optimus chuckled, then looked over at Ratchet – who had come to see what all the shouting was about – as though to double check, "Unless I have miscalculated, I would be approximately twelve thousand of your years old, but Terabyte did inform you correctly: in ideal conditions, a Cybertronian may live for millions of years."

" _Millions_?" Taia bounced up and down excitedly, "I would do so much if I could live that long, I'd build the biggest castle ever, and I'd cure all of every bad thing, and I-I'd be able to have as much candy as I wanted, and, and I'd make everybody in the whole wide world happy."

"A noble goal, child." The Prime replied with a smile.

If only Cybertron knew such innocent aspirations, Terabyte mused, watching as her young charge jumped off her raised hand and started introducing herself to every bot in the room, finding something to compliment on each bot. Terabyte's favorite was the girl's assessment of Bumblebee: "Ohhh! You have baby wings! Like an actual bee! They're so cuuuuute!"

* * *

 **An Hour Later**

"Go Raf! Yes! You can beat 'em!" The youngest child cheered, little hands clasped together as she watched the race with wide eyes, all of her focus on the remote control race cars currently speeding through the main chamber.

Jack, Raf, and Miko were intently mashing buttons on their contollers, occasionally gasping or snarling good-natured threats at each other as they raced through the obstacle course the bots had set up for them. Said bots were gathered around in a loose ring, cheering on their charges enthusiastically.

"C'mon Jack! Pick up the slack!" Arcee urged, laughing at the eldest human whose racecar was a good three feet behind Raf's and Miko's.

Bulkhead whooped and pounded his fist into his palm loudly, "Crush 'im, Miko!"

Wheeljack leaned closer to the Asian girl, smirking mischievously, "Play it dirty, Lil Wrecker, ram him, you got this."

"Jackie!" The girl scolded, laughing and revving her little car harder, catching up to Raf just in time to completely miss a corner and crash into the wall, flipping her car with a whine of its battery powered engine.

The room chorused a combination of cheers and groans as Miko was knocked out of the race. Terabyte laughed, sharing a victorious grin with Raf and Taia before her attention was drawn to a flashing red light on the main control panel.

She frowned minutely, sending a comm through to the others to let them know to come over when the race was over as she slipped behind Cliffjumper and Skyquake, taking care to walk silently as she passed behind Bulkhead so as not to alarm him.

Tapping in her access code, Terabyte raised her mask and opened the call to Agent Fowler's angry voice, "Prime? Do you read me?"

"My apologies, Agent Fowler, the Prime is not currently present. He-"

"Then I'll take that as confirmation that he is presently trying to run me off the road!" The man barked, glancing behind him with apprehension. The vehicle he was in suddenly jerked to the right, prompting a yell from Fowler.

Scowling, the femme traced his call to be in the middle of a relatively empty Nevada highway a few miles out from Jasper. "Agent Fowler, that seems highly unlikely, perhaps you-"

"Tell that to my burning treads, Con!"

The two-wheeler winced at the man's accusing tone and glare, glaring right back at the man with her expression flat, "A team is on the way, ASAP. Lieutenant Terabyte out."

"Bee, Arcee, Bulkhead, I need you to go to the location I put into the gorundbridge to assist Agent Fowler."

Cliffjumper and the others, who had gathered around behind her just as she hung up with Fowler, all regarded her with curiosity.

"What's the sitch?" Cliff quipped, putting a hand on his hip in a mocking pose.

She didn't have time to question whatever Earth reference he was making, so she simply responded, "Unknown, he claims Optimus is attempting to run him off the road."

"Optimus would never-"

Terabyte cut Arcee off, opening the bridge with a loud whoosh that drew a shriek of surprise from their newest human charge, "I know, Arcee, just go investigate and make sure Agent Fowler is safe, then report back."

A growl from directly behind her made the small femme stiffen fractionally and flare her armor out. "Who died and made you Prime?"

"Bulkhead." She repressed a sigh, her voice hardening, "Agent Fowler does not have time for you to argue, either aid him or Skyquake will go in your stead."

"Fine." The Wrecker spat, "I don't take orders from you."

She tilted her helm in acknowledgement then waved Skyquake through the portal after Arcee and Bumblebee. Technically the mech was right, Arcee was higher rank than she was and ought to have been the one making orders. Nevertheless, she was the one who had the needed intel to make judgement, and thus it was only logical that she be the one to make the call.

Prime could fire her later, when Agent Fowler was not about to be killed by an imposter.

As she closed the bridge behind the team, the tension in the room was tangible, seeming to crush down on her still recovering protoform like a heavy fist over her spark…

"Bulk, put the femme down, she's only tryin' to help."

"And doing a better job of it than you."

Wheeljack and Cliffjumper both stood with arms crossed, glaring at the massive green mech, who was currently holding her just higher than optic level, leaving her feet swinging nearly five feet above the ground. His hand wrapped around her, crushing her and rendering her immobile in his grip.

The kids were gathered around at a safe distance clustered together and watching with wide eyes. Taia was burrowed in between Raf and Miko, tears on her freckled face.

 _/This is my fight mechs. Do not interfere./_ Terabyte ordered over the comms before meeting the Wrecker's optics, "You're hurting-"

"That's the point, Con. What's your game? When are you gonna turn again? How long till you betray us all again? How many times do you expect Optimus to be able to cover for you?"

Terabyte gasped quietly as he squeezed harder, stressing the still-healing welds on her spark chamber. After all this time one would have thought her frame would have healed, but Knockout's experiments had taken more of a toll on her than she liked to acknowledge.

"You are hurting the _kids_." She bit out, her systems beginning to throw warnings about the pressure. "You are not hurting me, you are hurting _Miko_. What are you going to do Bulkhead? Kill me in front of a group of younglings? Pit, Taia is hardly past being a sparkling."

He growled at her, crushing even tighter, bringing an involuntary cry from her vocalizer. "I'm going to show them that _treason_ can't be tolerated, from _anyone_. Even our friends."

"What you are showing them is that you are no better than the Decepticons. That _we_ are no better than the Decepticons." She lowered her mask and forced her frame to hang limp. "If you kill me, Megatron's already won. No matter how hard it gets, we _cannot_ compromise our values, because they are all that separates us from them. If we compromise now, then why did we bother fighting all these vorns? Would you throw away your entire cause for a single femme?"

Bulkhead glowered at her, grinding his jaw and shifting his grip on her. His EM field was tight and strung with distrust and anger. For several klicks no one moved or spoke. The only sound in the room was Miko and Taia both sniffling.

At long last Wheeljack prompted, "Bulk?"

The mech growled, throwing her to the ground with a roar of frustration. "You're right. But don't think for a klick that this is over. You're nothing more than a liability and the next spark we lose will be on you."

"Then let my spark burn with the pain." Terabyte let out a heavy sigh, picking herself up off the floor, "But until then, I will continue to perform my duties to my cause to the best of my ability."

At that moment Ratchet returned from the back lab and the smaller femme stepped aside with a slight bow, allowing the medic to access the terminal.

He pulled up the comms, _/Arcee, report./_

The line remained silent and she could feel Bulkhead's glare burning hotter every astrosecond that the team failed to reply. After a moment, Ratchet commed the whole team, _/Autobots, report immediately./_

When the line opened in reply, the message sent back was slow in coming, bursts of static interrupting the connection, indicating weapon's interference. _/Base, Skyquake reporting. Arcee is injured. Hostile has fled. Requesting groundbridge./_

 _/It looked like Optimus!/_ Bumblebee burst in, incredulity glyphs punctuating his message.

"It is not Optimus." Terabyte whispered under her breath, feeling Cliffjumper give her shoulder wheel well a gentle squeeze.

"We know, Short Stuff, we'll figure it out, we always do." The red mech glanced at the fuming Wrecker whose field still radiated anger and blame. "We'll work all of this out."

One way or another.

It did not need said, it was obvious enough. Either Bulkhead would forgive her, or he would find an opportunity to kill her. She would not fight him. She had enough life-En on her spark, and would likely add more before this War ended, but she would not off an ally unless she was given no other choice.

When the War was over, she was going to separate herself from this life. She would find a neutral colony with Skyquake, and live a peaceful, civilian life, far from any bloodshed and spark loss. A peaceful life, free of all the pain of war.

 _/Opening a groundbridge at your coordinates. Bring Arcee directly to med-bay./_

Moments later Skyquake came through the portal carrying the two-wheeler in his arms. Her unconscious frame looked almost doll-like compared to his bulk. Terabyte tilted her helm minutely, wondering briefly how she always forgot just how massive the jet was in comparison with herself. It was a wonder he had not killed her accidentally a million times over since they first met.

She watched as Bumblebee followed along behind with the government agent supported carefully on one servo and the other arm raised as a blaster aimed towards the portal as it closed behind them. The femme waited a few klicks to ensure that Ratchet and the others had the situation under control before she made her way over to the worried looking cluster of children.

Kneeling in front of them, she lowered her battle mask and smiled half-sparkedly, nudging Taia's chin up gently to look her in the optics. "Do not worry yourselves on my behalf, younglings. All will be well in time."

Miko crossed her arms, glaring both at her and at Bulkhead. "Why can't you guys just go back to how things were?"

"I wish we could, Miko." Terabyte shifted positions, flaring her armor and turning a shoulder wheel idly, "Unfortunately, life is rarely so simple as that. I have made colossal mistakes, Miko, and the trust the others have in me was founded on a lie, and built upon with betrayal. Bulkhead may come to forgive me, and he may not. All I can do is continue on with integrity in the attempt to regain his trust."

"But that's not fair!"

"You weren't even in control of yourself for most of that, he can't blame you for being brainwashed." Jack argued, brushing a hand through his black hair.

"And hacked." Raf supplied.

She shrugged, her smile fading into poorly hidden despair, "Nevertheless, what was done was done. Perhaps one day both he and I shall grow enough in spark to forgive me."

Rising, the two-wheeler smiled at them again, "I have work to complete in the research room, excuse me."

* * *

 **Three days later**

The swish of the doors startled the little femme from her calculations, causing her to snap her helm up to stare wide opticked at the intruder. He took in her appearance with concern in his ruby optics.

Her armor was still dinged from where Bulkhead had slammed her into the ground, and her plating was dull. The gold optics gazing at him like a stunned glitch-mouse were foggy enough to make him question whether the femme was even seeing him. Her right shoulder wheel was spinning anxiously and her armor trembled with the effort of trying to flare before she gave up and her armor went slack against her protoform.

"Tera… you need to come fuel and charge now." Skyquake said quietly, gauging his little femme's reaction carefully. "The medic says that Arcee will be coming out of stasis in a joor."

He frowned minutely when she merely hummed softly in acknowledgement and went back to her console. The green jet stepped around the console to come up behind her and place a hand around her shoulders, gently coaxing, "Come on, Terabyte, your personal maintenance is important."

"So is this." She mumbled back, not turning from the streams of encrypted data scrolling through the holographic projection.

"What is 'this'?"

"Work."

Skyquake fought the urge growl that he could see that much. Instead the jet rubbed the crest of his forehelm and stifled a sigh. He cautiously tugged her away from the console to face him, brushing her masked face with the back of one servo softly, "You need to stop this now, femme. You can come back to it, but you can't finish this if you offline because you refuse to take basic care of yourself."

He regarded the femme with sad optics, watching her exhausted processors muddle through his words. The medic had told him she needed to recharge at least a little bit every earth night, and refuel with the nutrient mix every time her tanks reached seventy percent until he stopped registering abnormal fluctuations in her spark.

The jet waited expectantly for another few klicks before his little two-wheeler finally nodded slowly, "Fair point."

By the look of her, she had not recharged the past three earth nights, much less refueled. He doubted she had even moved more than two paces away from her console.

Leading her towards the rec room, he watched her movements warily, ready to catch her should she fall. Skyquake's spark rolled with displeasure at the thought. It was far too often that she got herself in a position where he needed to fear that she could not even walk on her own.

"What are your fuel tanks at, Terabyte?"

The femme stopped walking for a moment to glare at the floor, "Uhhh, forty-two. Wait, no, thirty-seven percent."

His lip-plates drew together tightly before he kept walking, his little femme following beside him, "You know what the medic told you."

"Ratchet worries too much. Like a fussy mother nanogoat."

The jet laughed at that description of the mech, instantly forming a mental image of a nanogoat with Ratchet's paint and features, baaing out orders. "Perhaps. But he's a fussy mother nanogoat that knows what's best for his patients. And you should listen to him."

She lowered her mask and showed him her best pouty face before giggling, "And we all know what an angry nanogoat is like if you don't listen."

"Precisely."

* * *

 **One joor later**

Terabyte felt herself coming out of recharge, her systems blearily onlining one by one, flashing their respective indications of functioning before her processors provided an overview of her recharge cycle. She hummed softly in pleased surprise as the read out declared that she had recharged the whole joor without any fluxes.

It also showed a definite increase in her repair system's level of functioning, and indicated that her protoform was only a few microns short of being fully recovered. She took a snapshot of the readout and sent it to Ratchet through the comms. Most likely she would be fully healed within another month.

The femme frowned minutely, realizing after the fact that she probably ought to have refueled first and run another scan to send the medic. Low fuel stored. Ratchet would likely scold her for neglecting her regular fuel intakes.

Her servos twitched and the berth shuddered a heavy sigh.

It occurred to her that her berth seemed bent to the side quite significantly. And berths did not ordinarily heave shuddering sighs when their occupants twitched. She cocked her helm and opened her optics slowly, shuttering them several times to clear the static.

Terabyte smiled fondly at the massive jet, bent over double to rest his helm and arms on her berth, his weight causing the berth to dip dramatically. Idly she wondered if her berth would recover from the strain, but she dismissed the thought as she saw how he had wrapped his hand around hers as she slept.

She rubbed her servo over the palm of his hand gently, marveling for a moment at the vastness of his hand compared to hers. One would think she was a sparkling in comparison.

"Sky…" The femme tapped his helm with one claw, biting back a giggle as he groaned, but did not wake. "Skyyyyyquake."

Mischievous servos pattered softly over his wing-tips, tickling the sensitive paneling. Green wings fluttered in response, but the mech remained inert.

"Skyyyyyyyquake."

An idea struck her and the little two-wheeler slid her hands up to the back of his neck and she pressed her servos to the bare, warm protoform hid just beneath his neck plating.

Instantly the jet jerked upright and away from her, leaning backwards instinctively and collapsing his chair so land with a crash on the floor, roaring in indignant surprise the whole way down.

"What the-" Perfect ruby optics opened wide and glared at her when he took in her childishly pleased grin, "Sweet Cybertron femme, how in the Pit are your hands so cold?"

"Full systems shutdown for repairs." She replied smugly, laughter still coating her words. "You awake now?"

The jet growled, snarling under his breath about hands colder than the third moon of Cybertron, "Course I'm awake. Pit, Terabyte, just shoot me next time."

She saw the glimmer of amusement in his optics despite the grouchy tone and giggled, giving him a jaunty salute, "Sir yes sir, cannon to the helm is preferable to ice-servo wake up, duly noted. Really though, it's what you get for insisting on standing vigil over me unnecessarily. Not a single flux."

He shot her a short glare, "You would have had the fluxes if I hadn't stayed."

"You don't know that for sure."

"But I do know you."

"… For sure." Terabyte smiled fondly at the jet, using his helm to lever herself out of the berth, "Come on you sappy lugnut, we need to hurry or we will miss Arcee's debrief."


End file.
